Barden Records
by Hate Finding Usernames
Summary: Jesse had been the good guy his whole life, the one who did no wrong and everyone liked. Then he accepts a position at Barden Records, and suddenly he's sleeping with a married woman, getting in fist fights with his co-workers, and uncovering secrets so big it could crack the foundations of the entire state. With everything working against him, can Jesse get out unscathed? [AU]
1. Not In Kansas Anymore

**So new story! This one is a big undertaking, I've never done an AU before so I hope it doesn't go horrifically. Please note I know nothing about the music industry, and the information included in this story is just what I have gathered from a bit of googling. It will not be perfect, but, you know, it's not real, so you know. I'm hoping to include every character at some point or another, with most playing a pretty big role.**

**I also don't normally favour Jesse's POV, which, while this is in third person, I'm going to try to stick to. Also, writing in present tense is apparently a little more difficult that I expected, especially as I'm used to past tense, so if there's any mix up I apologise.**

**This story will not be updated perfectly regularly as I have lots of things going on (i.e finishing my other stories and making sure I don't get kicked out of uni) but I will do my best. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think!**

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"Welcome to Barden Records."

It is strange, but he swears everything is sparkling. The white walls, the large portraits of their successful artists, framed albums, the giant reception desk, the waiting area with its big red chairs, hell even the _people _that are milling around or rushing through. It's all just there, his new home, serenading him with popular songs as he looks around in amazement. The elevator chimes to his right, people talk animatedly into their phones, the speed typing of the keyboard behind the desk; it's all the new soundtrack to his life here.

Jesse had a good feeling about this place.

"Excuse me sir? Do you have an appointment?"

He is broken out of his musings by the young man at reception that he had approached half a minute before, who is looking at him expectantly. He has big sideburns and a goofy face, a pen designed to look like a magician's wand stuck behind his ear.

"Yes!" He glances down at the name tag. "Hello Benji, I'm Jesse Swanson. I have a 10 o'clock with Chloe Beale?"

Benji begins to tap on the screen in front of him, and within ten seconds looks up at him in pleasant surprise. "Oh! You're the new A&R liason!" The young man's face melts into a boyish grin. "Congratulations on the job."

Jesse nods grandly, like an old king, and grins back. "Thank you. I'm looking forward to it."

Benji taps on the screen a few more times and then smiles at him again, his head tilting to one side. "You're a little early but I've let her know you're here. She'll be here any second."

To pass the time, Jesse signs in and receives his welcome pack, a small thin package in a clear plastic wallet. He clips his temporary badge to his jeans after being assured a permanent one will be made within the next few days. The elevator chimes again and Jesse see's Benji waving. Turning, he sees a small redhead walking towards them with a huge grin, waving at the receptionist just as eagerly. When she's close enough, she raises her hand and warmly shakes Jesse's hand.

"Chloe Beale, acting Senior Vice president of the Artists and Repertoire department. You must be Jesse; welcome to the team!"

He lets go of her hand and smiles kindly at her. "I'm just grateful to be here."

Her grin grows to impossible levels and she claps her hands together. "Well, you'll be hitting the ground running today I'm afraid. Lots to do and not enough hands to get it done. Want a tour?"

She leads him to the elevators after they say goodbye to Benji, and she points at the numbers as they climb to the 8th floor.

"First floor is Business Affairs and Legal, we don't have much contact with them. Second is a bit of a jumble, a lot of stuff to do with promotion like new media, publicity, marketing, that kind of thing. If you need any of them you can normally just call or email. Third is pretty much the same as second, though the Art department is based there which is good to note. Fourth is our floor which I'll show you around at the end, and then fifth is where a lot of the higher up people are based that are difficult to catch. Seventh and eighth is the recording studios, the editing suites, meeting rooms, that kind of thing. Ninth is where the company's president Mr Stroma is with some other extra rooms."

Jesse tries to keep track, his eyes flickering as he attempts to match the information up, and Chloe's laugh distracts him. She points at his pack. "Map's in there if you get lost."

He smiles gratefully and they get off the elevator. She shows him around most of the top floors, introducing him to the people who might be useful to him, letting him look around in his own time. Chloe points out break rooms and toilets, explaining which floor has the best coffee and to avoid the bathrooms on the third floor. She shows him the studios, introducing some of the producers and assistants. The largest seems to be empty and Chloe frowns, until they hear a voice singing enthusiastically in the recording space.

"_Since you've been gone, I can't breathe for the first time!_"

A large girl wanders around hooking up wires to a microphone, swaying her hips comically as she works. Jesse can't help the smile and watches Chloe walk towards the mixing board, pressing down a large red button.

"What the hell are you doing?" she says in a deep voice, making the woman spin in shock. She recognises the laughing redhead and puts her hand over her heart.

"Shit Chloe I thought you were-" She cuts off when she spots him. "Who's the new kid?"

"Jesse, hi." He raises a hand awkwardly in a wave. Her eyes are trailing over him hungrily. "New liason."

She walks through the door that separates the booth from the room and eyes him again. "Fat Amy, smokin' hot assistant."

"She works for one of our producers, Beca, who's pretty much the top dog here," Chloe explains. "You'll be working with her a lot in the next few months. Where is she by the way?" She directs the last question at Amy, who rolls her eyes.

"Where do you think she is?" the blonde scoffs, crossing her arms. "It's been an hour so she'll be done soon."

Chloe's nose scrunches up as she turns to Jesse. "Wanna grab coffee?"

Jesse, who has lost track of the conversation and what is going on, nods slowly, unsure why she's taking him for coffee. Saying goodbye to Amy (and he's glad to be leaving, because her checking him out very obviously was making him a bit nervous) they head to the second floor which apparently has the best coffee, and Jesse is surprised at how often Chloe waves at people, greeting them happily and asking questions about their health and family. He can see, now, why she is the head of his new department. She gets everything working between departments and artists because she's friends with them all.

They walk into the reasonably large square kitchen and Chloe sets about making them coffee ("black, two sugars, please") while Jesse people watches, taking in the ten to twelve people milling around on the two sofas or the dining table. Sitting slightly off to one side is a man slouched over a drawing pad, his thick rimmed glasses falling down his nose slightly. He's scribbling furiously, his pencil seemingly floating over the thick paper.

Chloe hands him a large white mug of steaming coffee with her apparently ever-present smile and then grabs two more cups, walking towards the table and sitting down carefully, pushing a mug towards the man with glasses. He doesn't notice her, his mind too involved in his work, and Jesse sits cautiously in the chair on her other side. Chloe makes no effort to alert the man of her deed, instead turning her back on him so she faces Jesse.

"So any questions?"

"Uh…" Put on the spot he can't think of anything. "Not at the moment."

"Well you can come find me anytime if you think of any. I'm on the contact list in your pack, and you'll see me around the A&R floor a lot."

The glasses guy reaches for the mug next to him, sipping it and exhaling gratefully, all without looking up from his work. Seeing the movement, Chloe twists to sympathetically pat his arm.

"Thanks Chloe," he mumbles.

"How's it going?" she asks, genuinely interested.

"That man will be the death of me." There is a little growl in his voice as he raises his head to look at her, only then spotting Jesse. "Oh, hey man, you the new liason? I'm Donald."

Jesse accepts the extended hand and shakes it firmly. "Jesse. Your drawing it excellent."

Despite his distorted view, he could see it was an album cover, detailed and intricate with a swirl of morphing patterns, woven into words and twisting into small, less detailed pictures. It's incredible, and Jesse thinks he recognises the band name written boldly across the top from a band that had been doing the rounds recently.

"Thanks. I'm the head product designer here, gotta tight deadline so I have to bounce…" He grabs his pad and balances it in his arm, nodding his goodbye and thanking Chloe again for the coffee in his hand. She shakes her head sadly after he is gone, explaining he was under a lot of pressure from Mr Stroma to get the album cover just right by this afternoon. Jesse winces; this guy sounds like a douche.

Their mugs empty, Chloe leads him back to the elevator through a sea of more greetings, and they stand in a companionable silence as they ride the elevator to the ninth floor. Climbing out, she leads him down a corridor, and he can't help but notice her posture change; she stands a little straighter, her smile is not quite as genuine as it has been all morning, she pays nervously with her curly hair. They take a bend and see, in front of them, a large set of black double doors, behind which two people are arguing.

Chloe pushes him back around the corner, leaning back against the wall. The shouting is muffled and undistinguishable, but they don't miss the sound of the door flying open. A brunette hurries past, hair hiding her face, and Chloe tries to grab her attention, but she is ignored.

"That's uh, that's Beca." Chloe gestures to the already disappeared form. "She's not normally like that." Jesse nods slowly and Chloe tilts her head in doubt. "Okay she is, but you'll get used to her."

Chloe walks him to the black doors again, knocking hesitantly, looking ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

But when someone pokes their head out around the door, the face is welcoming and friendly. "Hey Chloe! This the new guy?"

"Jesse Swanson, this is Luke Stroma, President of Barden Records."

"Honour to meet you." Jesse shook his hand and immediately decided he didn't trust him. He didn't know why yet, but something was off about him.

"I can't actually stay to chat," he says as he checks his over-priced watch on his wrist. "I need to be on a plane to New York in two hours, but I trust Chloe has talked you through everything?"

"Absolutely."

"Great, well, have a good first day, I'm sure you'll settle in well, and good luck with everything."

He shut the door and Chloe coughs to hide her less-than-pleasant thoughts on him. Jesse eyes her knowingly and she chuckles, leading him back towards the elevator to introduce him to his coworkers in his new department and show him his desk.

Afterwards, his day passes quickly, as he chases after people, making phone calls and taking instructions and answering emails all at once. It's tiring, but he loves it, and he throws himself into the job with everything he has. He manages to charm a few people in most of the departments, starts conversations in hallways, fetches spontaneous coffees, doing everything he can to begin his career on a good step. He's enthusiastic and when he drops by Chloe's office on his way out, she is impressed by the amount he has achieved.

"I was going to grab a quick drink before heading home, you want to join me?" he asks politely.

She smiles but shakes her head. "I have a ton of stuff still to do before tomorrow, but thanks for the offer. Definitely another time!"

He leaves to find the nearest bar in high spirits, satisfied that Barden Records is exactly where he is supposed to be.

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**So some characters have been introduced, a lot more will be appearing later on. Three guesses as to who he meets next chapter ;) Please review and let me know what you think! If there's any confusion as to the departments, then I will post the link for the website I found that will explain them far better than I ever could.**

**As a side note, I didn't know Luke's last name so I just used the last name of the actor who played him... In future for this story, I will do the same if I do not know a character's surname.**


	2. The Trip, The Eyes and The Secret

**The response I've had for this story is amazing! Like holy crap! Thank you so much for all your support!I already had this chapter written so I here it is, ready for you guys to fan yourselves over. I hope you enjoy it and I shall update soon :)**

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_The Trip_ is a swanky looking place, made for more of a middle and upper class clientele, and Jesse, who has never deemed himself this but now has a full time paying job at a pretty major up-and-coming record label, decides that this is where he shall have his first drink as an employed man.

The inside is lit with sparkling chandeliers, the lights reflected off the wall of bottles behind the long elegant bar appealingly. There are booths along the wall, a cluster of tables at the far end of the long and narrow room. It's surprisingly empty in the bar, enough that most of the seats at the bar are free, so he aims for here, content that he is fine having just the one drink alone before catching an early night.

Jesse sits heavily in a stool, tapping the long polished bar impatiently. Despite his tiring day, he is full of a nervous energy. The dynamic at the label had been strange, different to others he had temped at for experience. He can't get the idea out of his head that Mr Stroma is bad news, can't forget how nervous people seem to be around him. But the rest of the staff seemed welcoming enough, and he's confident that he can do well there.

"What're you having?" A dark blonde bartender stands in front of him, looking the perfect amount of courteous but bored. He's in a smart shirt and waistcoat, but Jesse detects he is not comfortable in the uniform. Just one drink, he reminds himself. He didn't want to have anything affecting his second day.

"Um, vodka and coke please."

A snort of laughter some ways down to his left alerts him out of his musings.

Four chairs down, a brunette lies slumped over the bar, her bent elbow and hand holding her head up. Her hair falls across her face as she absent mindedly twists an empty whisky glass in her other hand, her blouse riding up ever so slightly to reveal the beginnings of a tattoo on her lower back. She runs her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face, and dark blue eyes connect to his as she laughs openly at him. She's obviously quite drunk, or at least at the stage where you don't care what people think about you. He finds her striking, strange.

"On second thoughts, I'll have what she's having."

She purses her lips to stop her laugh, rolling her eyes at him as he winks at her. She's hot, sure, but seems to be immersing herself very heavily in the bottom of that glass. She doesn't break their stare, holding her empty glass out towards the bartender as he walks past.

"Freddy, you know what to do."

Her voice is deep and full of alcohol fuelled frustration. He hears her slight slur and can't help but smirk. The mystery woman is challenging him, daring him to look away first, but Jesse had never been one to back down. Instead, he takes his glass, leaves a note on the bar top, and walks to the seat next to her. All without looking away.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember inviting you to join me," she says matter-of-factly. Freddy the bartender fills up her glass with a golden brown liquid and she immediately swallows down a mouthful.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you owned all of these seats." He gestures extravagantly to all of the empty chairs, still never pulling his eyes away from hers. Her eyes dilate and she frowns. Sighing, she taps the empty bar beside her as an invitation for him to sit, and he takes it, his smirk growing as she looks away and focuses her attention back on her glass.

They drink in silence for a few minutes, both facing towards the shining bottles of liqueur behind the bar. Jesse lets the bourbon swirl around his tongue for a moment, enjoying the taste. It has been a while since he has drunk much at all, and he can already feel the warmth in his chest beginning.

"I know you," she blurts suddenly, and he realises she is staring at him in the mirror that lines the wall, a gap in the bottles reflecting their faces back perfectly. She's squinting, like she can't place it.

"No you don't." He'd definitely remember her.

"Yeah, I do."

"Pretty sure I've never seen you before." She has an intensity behind her stare, despite it being through a mirror, that puts Jesse on edge slightly.

She hums thoughtfully and looks back to her glass, lifting it and examining the contents in a new light. It's like she isn't sure how so much is already gone, and Jesse can't help but find it kind of adorable. Her shoulder lifts, like she's shrugging, and then she downs the rest, slamming it on the bar and pushing it towards Freddy.

"You're really nursing that drink," she observes without really looking towards him. "If you want to sit in my seats, you gotta get drunk."

Glad to accept another challenge, he lets the rest of his drink slide down his throat, copying her finish and pushing the glass away. The corner of her mouth that he can see twists up just slightly, and he feels a tiny thrill of victory.

"So what's your deal?" he tries to begin. Freddy fills up their glasses, glancing between them in disinterest.

"Oh no, you're a chatty one," she says with a groan. "Why did I not spot that?"

"Probably the amount of alcohol you've consumed this afternoon." Freddy raises an eyebrow at her but Jesse can see a concern there; she is obviously a regular. He wonders what a beautiful girl like her could possibly have going on that warrants being on first name basis with the bartender.

"And yet you continue to give it to me!" she says in exasperation, lifting her arms like it's not her problem.

Freddy just shrugs one shoulder and moves to the other end of the bar to serve some new customers, leaving them to sit in silence.

"So are we just going to sit here quietly and drink?"

She smirks at him, turning her head to look at him with those blue eyes, and nods once.

"Seems kind of boring. What's the point in being drunk if you don't do something stupid?"

He realises he has inadvertently implied that they sleep together – which he wouldn't mind, really – and it just encourages her smirk to grow, twisting in her stool a few centimetres to have a better view of him.

"To forget," she replies simply, and it catches him off guard, because he had not expected such a loaded answer in such a light hearted tone.

"Cheers to that." He keeps eye contact as he raises his glass, and she raises hers. They both throw back their heads and down the drink in one go, and when they slam the glass to the bar at the same time, she grins at him.

"So does forgetting include no names?" He finds her fascinating, the way she is so guarded yet so at ease. He is struggling to get a read on her but he can tell she's not as disinterested in his company as she is projecting. She wants him there, and Jesse can't help but be grateful for her presence too; it's not like he has many other people to talk to in this town.

"Yes; no names, no personal details. This right here" – she gestures between them – "is about tonight and tonight only."

"Focus on the now, not yesterday or tomorrow." He nods along. She nods too and then turns her eyes very seriously towards him.

"The only way this will work is if you're drunk." She motions to Freddy with her finger. "You need to get up to this level."

Jesse suddenly isn't sure what he's gotten himself into.

"3 more my fine fella!" she calls dramatically. "And put all of it on my tab!"

He goes to protest but she raises her fingers to his mouth, only millimetres away from touching them. "I insist. You can pay for the next thing."

Three more glasses are placed in front of him, and with an encouraging smile from the stranger beside him, Jesse bites the bullet and downs them all.

Before the last glass hits the bar, she is out of her seat, suddenly full of energy. She grabs the leather jacket from the seat on her other side and throws it on, and through his foggy brain he decides that she looks extra attractive in leather.

"Where are we going?" he asks, stumbling a little as he stands. She snorts at his poor display of balance.

"Dude. You cannot be that drunk already," she says as she laughs.

"I'm not drunk you're just blurry," he retorts, trying to re-establish some shred of dignity as he gestures her to lead the way. "Seriously, where are we going?"

She doesn't answer, just walks out of the door into the night's breeze. She doesn't wait for him so he has to jog to catch her up, settling to her pace at her side. Their arms brush and she keeps her gaze firmly trained to the sidewalk. Content to keep to the silence, he instead takes in the bustling streets of LA spread out before him, horns blaring and lights glittering in the dark clear night. It's strange to him, how busy one town can be – he has only been here a few days, and he is still so used to the quieter streets of Louisiana.

She turns them down a tiny side street that Jesse barely notices, and he can feel a heavy beat through the soles of his shoes. She walks two steps in front, seeming to barely notice he is there, and he watches her walk towards a wall, tapping on a door painted to blend in. She knocks in a weird way, one that is evidently some form of code, and the door creaks as it opens. Only now does she glance over her shoulder, and she pulls him by his blazer's sleeve after her into the dark.

The music is loud, so loud it vibrates in his chest, and it's so dim that Jesse has to take a moment to let his eyes adjust. His strange companion continues to pull him after her, walking down some metal grate stairs that lead to a large open floor. There are hundreds of people crammed in, dancing closely together. There's a bar in the shape of a semi circle across the back, and a similarly shaped stage at the front that three girls are performing on, singing and dancing to a catchy rebellious tune.

The crowd swallow them and he almost immediately loses her, too distracted by looking around the venue to realise she has let go of his sleeve. He glances around, but there are too many people, all crammed together tightly as they grind. He tries to spot her hair, her eyes, anything that might stick out in the crowd, but he can't spot her. Instead, he aims for the safe option; the bar.

He slides his way through the dancing bodies, paying no attention to anything but keeping the neon lit bar in his eye line. The bottles in this club are more daring than the bar, most being expensive mixers, vodkas or tequila.

She surprises him by suddenly tugging him, their chests pressed together, a wicked grin spreading across her face. Leaning up to his ear, she shouts over the music, "You got any moves?"

He answers by twisting her so her back slams into him and he can see she's now the surprised one. "Do you?"

She grinds herself back into him and his grip on her hips tightens. Tilting her head towards him, he can see she's grinning again, and he suddenly realises how infuriating it is, not knowing her name.

But she had set him a challenge, and he is damn sure going to complete it.

Her hips begin to sway between his hands and together they get lost in the beat on the song. It overpowers him, the mixture of music and alcohol making him feel fuzzy at the edges and giving him a delicious warmth. Their hips roll together and it's dirty and thrilling. His night with the beautiful stranger is one he is sure never to forget.

Her arms are above her head as she sways her waist lower, down his thighs to his knees, and then she's raising again and it's so hot that Jesse has to bite his lip to keep from making any noise. Her hands thread in his hair and his head drops, her palms encouraging him until his nose is trailing up her neck and he hears her breath is shallow. She smells incredible and Jesse grips her closer. He teases her, his bottom lip grazing behind her ear, his breath hot on her skin. Her hips rock back into his and he scrapes his teeth across the spot. Her head falls back onto his shoulder, giving him more access, her nails digging into his scalp.

The song finishes and suddenly, she is gone, her warmth replaced by a chill as she steps away and turns to look at him, her eyes flashing with determination. He licks his lips, because he's nervous and not sure what he's doing. What she's doing. Why is she looking at him that way?

Her hand is around his wrist in a jerk movement, and again she is pulling him through the crowd, away from the stage and the bar. He follows, because he doesn't really have another option, and they come to the far wall, the one furthest from the exit, where there is a little more room to breathe, and judging by the sets of pairs across the wall and sitting on the black couches, get to at least third base.

His back meets cold wall and she presses him further into it with the length of her body. He can feel every curve, every muscle twitch. Jesse can't help but find this girl ridiculously fascinating.

She looks nervous, but in a strange way, like she's not used to feeling nervous. His hands rest on her hips again, thumb absently stroking circles just under the hem of her shirt.

"One personal thing," she blurts, looking at his chest not his eyes. "We tell each other one thing."

She looks back up at him expectantly, and he realises he is supposed to go first. "Oh! Uh, okay, I guess, I taught myself how to play piano?" Does that count? He isn't sure where she's going with this all.

She looks mildly impressed. "Are you any good?"

He shrugs, because it's not something he's confident about. "I can play most of the classics?"

She nods approvingly and he's able to add something to his very short list of things he knows about his mystery woman; she loves music; she appreciates it.

"How about you?" She is still pressed against him and Jesse is finding it difficult to concentrate.

"I'm, uh," she hesitates, like she can't decide whether to say what she wants to, and he can see the battle in her eyes. She catches him staring and turns her head for a moment so he has no idea which side wins.

"I own this place." Her eyes are clear again when she looks at him, but he can sense that's not what she was going to say. Not wanting to ruin their perfect evening, he decides to keep it light-hearted.

"Oh I see, so this is the bit where you seduce me by showing off about how you own a club, and I find out the next morning you were lying to get me into bed." His eyes flash at her in amusement and she rolls her eyes.

She shifts against him minutely, but the friction is enough to make him lose his breath. Her eyes glance down in amazement, and he smiles through his embarrassment. Her hands stroke slowly, hesitantly, up his chest and around his neck, and he holds still, not wanting to spook her.

Raising on her toes, her parted lips touch his, their breath mixing as she gages his reaction, fighting to keep control of herself. He flexes his fingers on her hips and her eyes flutter close.

When she kisses him, he swears he see sparks.

Maybe it's just the alcohol, but Jesse can't himself – there's something about how she's kissing him, about the way she's this giant mystery to him that he wants to solve so badly. His right hand trails down, gripping her thigh tightly and lifting it to his waist. He feels the vibration of her moan against his teeth. Their lips move together eagerly, passionately clinging to each other. It's intense and incredible and Jesse never wants to leave this moment.

His lips are soft against his and he loses himself in her, revelling in the feeling of her in his arms, how she fits against him so well, how she is straining to reach him so desperately. Every place she touches him feels like it's on fire, the fast pace of the music matching the beating of his heart.

"Hey, sorry, uh…" A hand on her shoulder interrupts them, and her eyes pop open in annoyance, turning a glare on the young man who is nervously standing beside them. There is a phone in his hand that is half raised towards her and she snatches it from him, dismissing him with a wave. He swears he hears a quiet growl.

"Hello?" She is still pressed against him, the breath from her talking hot on his cheek. "Amy, what have I told you about calling me here?" She is angry and he bites the inside of his lip, unsure what to do. "I don't give a damn what he says, just because he's" – she cuts off to glance up at Jesse, who is smiling at her awkwardly – "Look, just tell him that I know what I'm damn well doing." She rolls her eyes and mouths an apology at him. "Well he can take his stupid demand and shove it up his ass. If he wants it done the wrong way, he do it his bloody himself. It's my job, my idea, my project. Goodbye!"

Still holding onto Jesse, she holds the phone out to the guy she knows it still hovering, and he takes it before skittering away. She looks at his lips hungrily but he can see a new doubt there, that something had broken through her haze and made her question their position.

"You gotta go?" He offers her a way out, and she smiles in appreciation as she untangles herself from him.

"I had been hoping yesterday and tomorrow would stay away," she explains, stroking a finger down his chest. Her gaze stops following it and again she turns her blue eyes on him. "But I guess our experiment failed."

She steps away and readjusts her shirt, smoothing her hair and taking a deep breath. Jesse relaxes himself and brushes down the front of his blazer, not sure what to do.

"Walk me out?" she asks, her expression portraying that she doesn't care either way. He nods, because he has no idea how to get out of here, and as she had done before, she leads him by the sleeve through the crowd and towards the exit. The bouncer at the door nods at her in greeting as he opens the door for them, and Jesse appreciates the cold air that hits him when they walk out. It clears his head and lets him start to think again.

Within seconds of leaving the tiny street, she has hailed down a cab, and she hops in the back, Jesse closing her door. She slides down the window and looks up at him leaning down towards him, both of them smiling at each other. She reaches out to touch his lips softly and he gets goosebumps.

"Goodbye Piano Man."

And then the cab is gone, and Jesse is left standing on the side of the road, watching it disappear into the sea of headlights. He has no idea what kind of night he has had, but the only thought he can come up with is describe is one worded.

_Wow._

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**So honest opinions - what did you all think? Leave me a review and let me know! Always love to hear from you guys :)**


	3. What Happens In The Club

**3 – WHAT HAPPENS IN THE CLUB…**

Jesse is exhausted.

Once he had got back to his temporary home of an old friend's sofa, he hadn't been able to take his mind off the stranger he had spent the night with. It was late, and he was probably too close to drunk for his own good, but no matter how much he knew he needed to sleep, it evaded him. Her face swirled in front his eyelids. He couldn't forget her striking blue eyes, how she had smiled at him, the way her hair swayed across her shoulder blades as she danced. He could still feel how her lips had felt pressed to his, her knee hitched over his hip, her chest pressed against him. Her presence haunted him, kept his body wide awake; all he wanted was to find her and lose himself in her once more.

But he didn't know where she lived. Heck, he didn't even know her name. He could go back to the bar, find out about her, but did he want to be that guy? Stalking a girl across the city just because they had one incredible night? She was probably too good to be true, anyway. He resigned himself to instead know he had those memories, if nothing else.

He had finally drifted off in the early hours of the morning, and it took 2 cups of coffee to wake him up properly before he could leave for his second day. His back aches from the sofa, his mind is groggy from the mild hangover, and even though he is excited about returning to work and distracting himself from the memories, when he walks through the large doors and sees Benji smiling at him, he just wants to crawl back to bed and go to sleep.

"Hey Jesse!" the exuberant receptionist calls. Jesse forces a smile and walks towards him. "How was your first day?"

"Great thanks. How are you?"

"I am excellent." The younger man grins at him and Jesse can't help smiling back. He's sweet, and his boyish charm reminds Jesse of his younger brother back home.

"Jesse! Thank God you're early!" Chloe interrupts what was sure to have been an awkward lull in the conversation. She rushes over to him from the elevators, her arms full of files and documents. She looks flustered and seems happy to find him.

"What's up?"

"There's been a mix up, and one of the new artists we've got coming in two weeks is actually going to be here to record a demo in three days. There's a ton of things to be rushed and, as the new guy, you are delegated to push papers for today in the hopes that we can get this all sorted out and ready for when they arrive." She dumps the papers she's carrying into his arms and he nods, a little overwhelmed at how quickly she's talking and how slow his tired brain is.

"Sure thing Chloe, let me know if you need anything else done." Jesse nods goodbye at Benji and heads towards the elevators in Chloe's wake.

"Oh don't volunteer for that!" She waves him off with a chuckle, pressing button four and letting the doors close quietly.

"So how was your night?" Chloe looks at him through the corners of her eyes. "You look tired."

Jesse grimaces; is it that obvious? "What was supposed to be one drink turned into a rather weird night."

"Oh?" Chloe questions politely, her toe tapping slightly in impatience.

"Yeah. The girls in LA are weird." Jesse laughs and Chloe smiles genuinely at him as the doors slide open. She rushes out but turns to him, walking backwards.

"That we are!"

And she's gone, leaving Jesse to do his paper work at his small cubicle.

Three days pass by quickly for him as he works hard with the rest of his team to get ready for the new artist as well as keep up with the usual work. He pushes papers, runs errands, makes arrangements with all the people needed, everything that's needed to make the demo recording run smoothly. The process involves discussing things with Amy, the sexually frustrated assistant, more times than he'd like, but he focuses instead on what's important, and that's getting the work done. His dedication to the tasks earns him his first full liaison role, as Chloe is pleased with his work. She assigns him to greet the new artists when they arrive, and to keep them company through the day. He will make sure everything is working well, keeping the artist and their manager happy.

That sunny morning, Jesse waits nervously with Benji at reception, who is fast becoming a good friend to him here at the record label. He is a few minutes early, so takes the opportunity to stop for a chat to take his mind off things.

"You'll do just fine," Benji assures him. "You're ready for this!"

Jesse massages his lower back, which has grown increasingly more painful as the days have gone past. "Yeah I hope so."

Benji notices his discomfort and frowns. "You okay?"

Jesse nods and straightens up. "Yeah, just a bit of muscle ache. I haven't found a place to live yet so I'm staying on a friend's couch."

Benjie brightens up. "Well hey! I have a spare room in my apartment, you could take that? It's not too far from here and rent's pretty cheap."

"Seriously?" Jesse turns to him in surprise.

"Yeah! Why not? We get along pretty well, I have a bed, you need a bed, it all works out pretty well."

"Benji you are the best!" Jesse grins at him, feeling considerably better. "Thank you so much!"

As they celebrate, a small group of people approach the desk. "Um hello?" an arrogant voice calls. "We have an appointment with Beca Mitchell?"

Jesse looks up to see a larger man looks at Benji rather rudely, with three girls silently gushing behind him. They're familiar to him, but he can't place it. He swallows his nerves and puts on his best smile, holding his hand out towards him.

"Hi there, I'm Jesse Swanson, you're liaison. You're the girl's manager right? Mr Allen?"

He looks at the hand in disgust and then glances back up at Jesse. "Can we get a move on? I have dinner reservations at 6."

Jesse's eyes widen slightly but he keeps his expression friendly. "My friend Benji here will get you all signed in, and then I'll take you up to the studio."

As the manager signs them in and gets their visitors passes, Jesse welcomes the three girls to the building. He has poured over their files numberous times in preparation, learning their names and what they like and dislike. Upon seeing them, he realises they are a strange mix, and not the kind of group you'd expect to see together. Stacie is all legs and boobs with a pretty smile and a loud personality, while Lily is the opposite, shy and quiet. Cynthia Rose is reserved, and he gets the impression that she speaks when she needs to and when it does, it makes an impact. Jesse shakes all of their shaking hands and makes polite conversation to help them calm their nerves (and secretly, his own).

They head to the elevators and they ride to the eighth floor in an awkward silence as their manager talks loudly into his phone. As they exit, and are able to put a little space between the group and the manager, he attempts again to relax them.

"So you guys are recording your first demo huh? You must be pumped!" Jesse tries to make small talk as he leads the girls down the corridors, his body twisted so he can see them and the route ahead. He hopes he doesn't get lost.

"Yeah, definitely! We've just been performing in clubs around town, trying to get spotted, so it's nice to-"

"Oh!" Jesse suddenly remembers how he knows them. He hadn't paid them much attention, but he realises now why they're familiar to him; they had been the band performing in the club on that night with his mystery woman. "I think I've seen you guys perform!"

Cynthia Rose nods. "Yeah we've been around."

He spots that their manager has stopped part way up the corridor, shouting angrily into his phone. He feels sorry for whoever is on the other end. Jesse rejoices as he spots the door he's looking for. He pushes down the handle but pauses, looking at their eager faces. "You guys want a second to get all the excitement out?"

Stacie laughs and they all fidget restlessly, trying to release the burst of energy. He smiles at them, their childlike enthusiasm catching, and then he hoists open the door grandly. His smile freezes awkwardly on his face at what meets the group on the other side.

"…can't just wear them like you're _supposed _to!"

"Because I don't like to when I'm working, it's-"

There's a pause, a strange pause, in which two things happen all at once.

Luke Stroma is nose to nose with a girl, arguing as he shoves something into her hand. Upon the disturbance, the pair turn and see the four people in the doorway, standing awkwardly with the light streaming in behind them.

And Jesse, quite loudly, proclaims "holy crap!" because the girl who is glaring at the president of the company, is the spitting image of his mystery woman. No, she _is _his mystery woman. And as she recognises him, the colour from her face drains and her eyes grow impossibly wide. Her clenched fist relaxes and something tiny and golden drops to the floor and under the desk.

Luke's clap brings them out of the time bubble they seem to have been frozen in. "You must be our new girl group! The Banned! Welcome to your first demo!"

The girls grip each other's hand and grin manically, stepping into the small but expensively furnished room and looking around in amazement. It is all wooden panelling, with a giant mixing station built along one wall with a large window above it. Behind the glass is the recording area, large and light with hundreds of wires and fancy looking equipment set up in various areas. It's beautiful, but Jesse can't seem to focus on anything but the woman there. He doesn't understand how he's looking at her, here, at his work, in a room, arguing with his boss. His boss's boss.

None of it is adding up.

"Hi there." She steps forward towards the girls, her eyes avoiding Jesse in any way possible. "I'm-"

"This is your producer!" Luke interrupts, and she glares daggers into his face. "Beca, meet The Banned. Girls, this is Beca, my wife and top producer."

If Jesse had been surprised before, he is now so shocked that he's forgotten how to breathe.

"I'm Stacie," the tall brunette introduces, shaking Beca's hand. "This is Cynthia Rose and Lily. It's so lovely to meet you, we've heard such incredible things!"

"I will allow you girls to get aquianted, I've got to get back to some work but good luck girls, you're going to be great!" Luke walks backwards to the door. "Remember, you're working with the best. Love you Becky!"

Jesse does not miss the way his mystery woman's – _Beca's _– face falls from a fake smile to an irritated eye roll.

An all too familiar girl walks into the room, and Beca introduces Amy to the group. He remembers her name, now, being mentioned on the phone, from their night, and he nods, still frozen in the doorway, because he knows he is supposed to be helping out but _his mystery woman is standing right in front of him._

Her brain functions all in apparent working order, she accepts the disposable coffee cup from Amy, and begins to explain the basics of what they are going to do. She is still avoiding him, pretending like he isn't there, right up until she sends Amy to explain the recording space to the girls. The second the soundproof door shuts, she turns on him.

"What are you doing here?" she hisses, her eyes blazing. His brain finally kicks into gear and he walks further into the room, closer to her.

"What am I doing here? What are _you _doing here?" he yells in a whisper, gesturing wildly to her.

"I work here, dummy!" She relaxes her facial expression, straightening her back so she isn't leering at him. "And obviously so do you."

"I was talking more about the fact that you're _married_?! To the president of the company I work for?!" Jesse is no way ready to be calm, and Beca can tell, falling into her large ergonomic chair with a sigh. She scrubs her face with her hands and when she looks back at him, she looks more guilty than angry.

"I was going to tell you, really, I just," she pauses and groans, leaning back in the chair. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is that we, we-"

"Weren't supposed to have a tomorrow," he finishes for her, and she glances up at him with a wince.

"Can't we just forget about it?" she pleads, leaning forward, her blue eyes desperate. "It was just one night, and the club thing, it was all just one big drunken mistake. A mistake we don't have to focus on."

Jesse crosses his arms; he has no desire to forget that night, even if it was his boss's wife he ended up making out with against the wall of an underground club.

But this is his job, his career, and it's hers – not just her job, but her marriage, her entire life – and even though he thinks she's incredible and break taking, they are co-workers. They are going to be working with each other all the time, and if pretending the best night of his life didn't happen kept everyone happy, then, well, he'd pretend it didn't happen.

He has a strange feeling this won't be the last time he falls victim to those beautiful blue eyes.

So, to try and lighten the mood in any way possible, Jesse bends down, grabs her wedding ring from under the desk, and looks up at her with very serious eyes. "My precious," he mimicks, hoping to win a smile.

But her face stays in its placid expression, watching him like he's high on drugs.

"You haven't seen Lord of the Rings?"

She shakes her head as he straightens up.

"Seriously? You must have at least heard of the line. It's a classic!"

Again, she just shakes her head, shrugging. She takes back her ring but doesn't put it on, instead slipping it inside her jeans pocket.

"What do you not like movies or something?" he asks in amazement. She bites her lip to stop a smile and his eyes widen. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"They're fine, I just get bored and never make it to the end." She shrugs again, turning in her chair to face the console and the window where Amy is showing them how things work with the microphone.

"The endings are the best part!" he protests. Her lips press together but he can tell she's smiling. Once again victorious, he settles himself on the large black couch behind her.

"I prefer music," she offers up, her back to him. "I'd rather play around with music that waste time watching movies with the same plots and the perfect endings." She pauses, and Jesse watches the back of her head intently. When she speaks again, she is far more sombre and quiet. "Life isn't like movies. I think they give us unrealistic expectations."

But before he can think of a way to reply, the manager bursts into the room, his air of arrogance breaking the tension. "Aren't they ready yet?"

"Oh, Bumper you're actually here? I was hoping you'd been scared off by our last phone call." Beca is sarcastic with him, rude, and Jesse's eyes flicker between them. Bumper smirks at her and leans his hands on the back of her chair, either side of her head.

"How could I not be here? I have to make sure you don't screw up this demo like you did with mine."

Jesse see's Beca rolls her eyes in the reflection of the window. "Oh get over it, that was college. I worked with what I had which, quite frankly, was very little."

Bumper puts a hand on his chest. "Ouch Beca, you wound me. Why must you be so determined to blame your failures on me?"

Jesse raises an eyebrow but keeps quiet; this is none of his business and it's probably easier to just go with it. Before their banter can continue, Amy walks back into the room with the girl group, who are grinning wildly.

"You girls excited?" Bumper asks, his voice considerably more gentle.

"Bumper I can't believe we're actually here!" Stacie very nearly squeals.

"This is incredible," Cynthia Rose agrees.

"Well remember, this is a priviledge, okay? I got you girls the best so you need to be on top game for her." He pats Beca's shoulder and she shoots him an appreciative smile. Jesse eyes the hand warily, trying to ignore any inappropriate feelings he has on the simple touch.

Instead, Jesse focusses himself on his work, because that's why he's here, and he needs to prove himself. He does everything he needs to, he supervises the session (which yes, does involve watching Beca work in fascination, but that's just because it's what he _has_ to do) and does his best to keep his mind away from thoughts of her. Because yes, his mystery woman is on longer a mystery to him, and yes, she is sitting in the room with him less than five feet away, and he'll admit that her facial expressions while she works are beautiful and striking to him. But she was a one night deal, and nothing more. She is no longer his mystery woman, she is the top producer at his new company, she is the wife of the President of said company, and that means Beca is one hundred per cent off limits to him.

No matter how much he wishes otherwise.

* * *

i **am on fire! updating queen! What did you all think? Let me know!**


	4. Moving In, Moving On

**First of all, I apologise for my severe lack of updates. I had severe writers block on how to write this chapter, but I've done it now and I can hopefully continue a lot quicker than I have been. Thank you for all your reviews, and for sticking with this (if you have; I'll presume so since you're reading this). I will be working on the next chapter over the next few days so hopefully it will be up by the end of this weekend.**

**Also, my absence can be partly blamed on my very recent discovery of _The Fault In Our Stars_ by John Green, which has basically torn my heart out and ripped it to shreds. It's the kind of book that makes you want to simultaneously appreciate life more and curl in a ball and die, in the vain hope you will find Augustus and Hazel somehow and just hug them as you cry. If you've read it, then I'm sure you understand this feeling. If you haven't, I strongly suggest you invest in a copy. Within half an hour of reading it, I knew it was my new favourite book.**

**Anyway, enough with my ridiculous ramblings. To the chapter!**

* * *

**4 – MOVING IN, MOVING ON (BUT NOT REALLY)**

The following week speeds by in a blur of motion, coffee and sending emails. Within three days he has moved into Benji's apartment – a small, quirky place a five minute walk away from work, with a little too much Star Wars memorabilia to be considered a healthy love of the franchise – and he finds that he actually really enjoys it there. They walk back from work together and Benji doesn't mind his giant movie collection – loves it, even. They take turns to pick a movie to watch with dinner, and Benji is easy going so doesn't mind when Jesse needs time to himself. It's simple, and Jesse appreciates having a good friend in the large chaotic city.

Of course, the Beca situation continues to be mildly (read very) awkward. His mandatory interactions with her, while few, are full of a strange tension and very deliberate efforts from both parties to pointedly avoid each other's gaze. They keep it civil and the only person to really notice the strange air between them is Amy, who does little more than raise an eyebrow and chalk it up to Beca's cold demeanour and Jesse's new-kid-on-the-block nerves.

It has occurred to him on numerous occasions that he should probably stop obsessing over her.

Because he can't, really. He feels like the entire non-thing has taken over his life a little, and he hates it just as much as he hates her husband. Which is the biggest issue out of the problem. His mystery girl is his boss's wife, and if Jesse wants to continue following his dream then he needs to get over the girl he keeps dreaming about.

He wishes it were that easy, because even thinking about not thinking about her is, in itself, thinking about her.

Which is why he is a little less enthusiastic about going to work this morning, because after his meeting with Bumper Allen scheduled for nine A.M., he has to then check in on how the demo is shaping up, because it should be finished now but it seems a certain producer is just trying to make his job more difficult for him.

It takes an hour after Mr Allen's late arrival to assure him the demo will be finished by the end of the day – a promise that may or may not be empty – but finally he leaves. Jesse already cannot stand the man, but he bites his tongue and smiles and nods politely. It's his job, so he keeps it civil.

After putting it off for an hour, Jesse finally drags himself away from his desk and to the elevator. As he heads up to the eighth floor, he makes talk with Donald, the head of product design he had met on his first day. He takes in the large sketch pad in his arms, the bag slung over his shoulder full of loose pages and pencils in every colour.

"I prefer drawing it out first," Donald explains when he catches Jesse looking. "I can think about it better with pencil and paper. After that, I create it on the computer, when the piece is perfect."

"Doesn't that take longer?"

Donald shrugs. "Yeah, but it means I'm good enough to be head of my department at the tender age of 31."

"Did Mr Stroma approve of that drawing I saw?"

"He didn't hate it." Donald struggles to push his glasses further up his nose. "It was good enough to get his reluctant approval."

"I thought it was great," Jesse supplies as the doors open and he steps out onto the eighth floor. He nods goodbye to him, and then begins the slow walk towards the recording studio he had first found out her true identity in. His hands are in his pockets and he hopes her strange assistant is there to at least placate the awkwardness some.

Of course, when he knocks on the door and walks in, she is alone, curled up on the couch with her laptop resting awkwardly on her knees. At his disturbance she tilts the screen down to see him better and attempts a smile.

"Hey." Her voice is soft, uncertain.

"Hi." The door closes quietly behind him. "I'm here about the demo." Straight to business. That was the easiest thing to do.

She nods. "Yeah, I gathered. I'm just adding in one tiny thing, after that it'll be done."

An awkward pause stretches between them.

"How long?" he asks.

"Only about five minutes, ten tops." She purses her lips. "You want to wait here or…?"

"Sure." He says it without thinking and as soon as it's out there he wishes he could take it back.

Her hand gestures to the rest of the couch beside her and he sits on the edge, his hands tapping in a nervous beat on his knees. After a minute or two she glances up at him, obviously irked by his noise, so he makes himself stop, his foot beginning to shake. He doesn't know why she puts him so on edge.

"I'm not going to bite, you know," she says passively, eyes firmly trained to her screen.

"I know." He pauses. "It's just difficult, with you, since you can effectively ruin my entire career hopes by just letting it slip."

She sighs for a long moment. "Why would want to do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're secretly a giant bitch. It's not like I know you that well."

"You knew me well enough to feel me up in the middle of my club." The way she says it is so casual that Jesse looks genuinely flustered.

"That hardly counts," he protests.

"Jesse," she says with another sigh, putting her laptop in the space between them to better focus her attention on him. He can't help but think about her body pressed to his, the beat of the music hammering in his chest – or was that his heart? – how great she had tasted. "The whole thing… It's not something I'm exactly _proud _of, okay? I got drunk, I got a stranger drunk, and then I dragged him into a club and proceeded to do some very inappropriate things that are not exactly encouraged in the good wife's handbook. Our situation is unfortunate and not at all very likely, but it is what it is."

He hates that she's married to such a twat.

"That night; it's our secret." She fidgets in her seat. "To reveal it would be mutually assured destruction."

It is only now that he realises she is wearing her wedding ring again. "Okay."

"I'm sorry," she says gently, "I'm sorry I put you in this position."

"I'm not." It's barely a whisper, and when she bends over to pick up her laptop again, he thinks maybe she didn't here.

But after another minute's silence, she is glancing up at him again, a tiny smile on her lips, and he swears he hears her breath a soft, "Me neither."

* * *

Two nights later he is working late, so Benji walks home alone and Jesse stays at his desk, stressed and a little over worked. The demo had been approved by The Banned, and now was the lengthy process of sending it out to radio stations, to TV and film production, to anyone who might listen and think 'this needs to be heard by the world'.

He is tired of reading carefully worded 'no thank you' emails.

_The Trip _seems to be a welcoming place when he walks heavily through its doors, thinking of nothing else other than how he really just wants a drink. Freddy is there, and Jesse asks for a whisky as he falls into a stool. The younger man nods politely and sets about fetching his drink. One drink and then he's going home, Jesse reasons, then he's going to sit on the couch and watch Iron Man with Benji. Yes, that's definitely a good plan.

Three drinks later, the breeze of the door being opened hits him and without looking he's certain it's his mystery girl.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember inviting you to join me," he quotes her as she sits beside him, Freddy already putting her chosen poison together without her having to say a word.

She raises an eyebrow like she's really not in the mood for all of that. "My husband is an asshole."

The way she spits the word _husband_ lets him know she evidently has very few nice things to say about him. "You're only just realising that?"

"No but he's being more of an asshole than normal."

Spurred on by the alcohol in his system, he turns to her boldly. "Then why are you still married to him?"

It catches her offguard, and there's something unreadable in her eyes for a moment before she twists abruptly away from him and lets the drink in her hand disappear down her throat. Seeing this is a topic she is evidently not going to engage in him with, he tries to change the subject.

"So I moved," he begins.

Her voice is cold when she speaks. "Oh yeah?"

"Finally have a bed to sleep in." He nods because he has nothing else to do. "You know Benji, at reception?" She nods once. "I live with him."

"He's a nice guy," she says vaguely. "If a little strange."

He chuckles. "That's true."

She asks for two drinks and she slides one over to him. "You like Barden?"

"Yeah." His smile is genuine and makes her smile back. "Everyone has been great."

"Yeah they're okay."

"How long have you been there?"

She swallows a large amount of her drink. "Since the beginning, back when I was in college."

"It took off pretty quickly."

"I guess. Luke had a lot of contacts; he got his name out there pretty quickly."

Jesse doesn't want to talk about Luke, so he twists his question to keep away from it. "Have you always wanted to produce music?"

Her lips press together and she looks down to the polished wood of the bar. "I don't know." A pause. "Have you always wanted to liaise?"

"Honestly? No. I want to compose."

She seems surprised at his confession. "Then what are you doing at a record label?"

He shrugs. "Dreams don't pay the bills."

"What do you want to compose?"

"Movies." She nods and he can't help but smile as he talks about his dream. "I wanna bring people to tears, blow their minds, you know?"

She smirks at him. "You're an oddball, you know that?"

He smirks back. "Says the weirdo."

As is often typical in life, something is there to inconveniently break the moment. In this case, it is his phone vibrating beside him, and she breaks the intense stare they had both been locked in. With a disappointed sigh, he checks it to see Benji checking in, making sure he's okay, and Jesse realises it's actually pretty late and he's broken his promise to himself to only stop here for one drink.

She bites her lip. "You have to go?"

Does he detect disappointment in her tone? "I was supposed to watching a movie with Benji. I forgot."

"It's okay, you don't need to stay for me." She smiles weakly. "I got Freddy to keep me company!"

The bartender does not look exactly thrilled by this prospect.

"Beca." He doesn't know what to do, because this giant part of him wants to stay sitting at this bar forever with her, talking and drinking, but then the rest of him is telling him to run, to take the opportunity for an exit and leave as quickly as possible. Beca is so far off limits that just talking to her is dangerous.

"I should go home anyway." She drinks the last few drops of her glass and hops out of her seat. "Luke is in New York again so I have the house to myself. I enjoy the quiet."

He pockets his phone and, while she puts on her jacket, slips money to Freddy to pay for their drinks. When she turns back to him he smiles and they walk out into the warm night air of LA side by side, him holding the door open for her. They stroll up the street for a way, a comfortable silence settling between them, until something in his snaps and his blurry brain thinks _why the hell not_.

She's pressed against a gap between buildings so quickly that she looks a little dazed as she stares up at him in surprise. He's close, too close, but he doesn't care because how can something so wrong feel so right? Their breath mixes together and Jesse watches her eyes dilate.

"You should go home. We can't…" she tries but it's stuck in her throat. "I should go home," she whispers, staring at his lips. Her tongue darts out for a second. She makes no attempt to move and he makes no attempt to let her.

"That's probably a good idea." It's all breathy and that large part of him that wants to just stay with her is evidently winning in its struggle with the rational side of him.

"Your hands are on my waist."

"Are they? I wonder how they got there."

Her lips are so close to his he can feel them graze his as she speaks. "You should take them off so I can go home."

"I am taking them off."

"Uh huh. And this is me… Walking away…" The hand he didn't know was in his hair pulls him that tiny bit closer and he swears that somehow she tastes that much better. Her shoulders scratch against brick and his fingers card through her hair. It's quick and careful but full of unsaid feelings and he doesn't want to leave this moment for anything.

"This is me waving goodbye," he whispers against her lips as he kisses her again, longer and harder and she groans quietly.

"Would you just shut up already?"

He loses himself in her, pressing her too hard into the wall, gripping her hair too tightly, digging his fingers into her side too roughly. But it doesn't matter, because she's exactly the same way, and he wants nothing more than to feel the heat of her skin beneath him and hear her try to catch her breath as she clings desperately to his sheets… He sighs and she grips him tighter, her wedding ring cold against his neck and…

Her wedding ring.

Jesse pulls back, tearing himself away. Instantly he puts space between them, breathing heavily as he tries to clear his head. She looks alarmed, her lips swollen and her shirt crinkled, leaning back into the brick wall as she tries not to lose her balance at the intensity of him and what he had just done to her.

"You should go home," he manages to say. "You should go home and I should go home and we should not go home together."

She opens her mouth to protest but shuts it, her mouth pressing into a hard line as she nods quickly. "Okay."

And before he can explain himself, can try to stop this being even the tiniest bit more awkward than it's bound to be tomorrow, she walks quickly away from him, quickly getting lost in the dark busy streets of the city that's already changing him into a person he can't seem to recognise.

* * *

**So yeah. I couldn't resist not including the scene from What To Expect When You're Expecting (obviously no claims on this as my own). But uh oh! It seems Jesse and Beca and whisky do not mix well (or do, depending on your view I guess). It serves only as a way to get them in trouble! Let me know if this served up to your expectations for my grand come back to this story or not. If yes, let me know! If no, well, let me know again, and feel free to tell me off for my severe lack of updating ability. I won't mind, I can take it. Hugs to you all!**


	5. Long Live The Queen

**5 – LONG LIVE THE QUEEN**

"Beca, wait up!"

Jesse jogs down the corridor to her as she continues to ignore him, her shoulders tense under her dark green blouse. It's been four days since he kissed her, and she's been avoiding him like the plague ever since. He's acutely aware that seeking her out to smooth things over is probably not the best idea, especially at work where anyone could hear them talking, but he also knows that he has to work with this woman for the next few months and that leaving this _thing_ to fester under the skin and, undoubtedly, explode in a giant horrible mess is probably not the best decision either. He's stuck between a rock and a hard place and, if he has to pick one way for this to go, he'd rather the one that meant he could at least a little bit more time with her.

Yeah, he's an idiot, he knows that very well.

"Beca, please." He's a few steps behind her now and he slows because he doesn't want to be too obvious. He's paranoid, worried that someone may see, someone might figure out their less than innocent connection, and it's got him on edge.

"I have nothing to say to you," she mutters quietly, knowing he'll hear but not wanting to draw attention. "It was a mistake, let's just forget about it."

"I don't want to forget about it," he hisses. "I want to clear this up before it gets out of hand."

She rounds a corner and he hears her sigh heavily. "You should have thought of that before you –" She cuts off and he can just make out her jaw clenching. He knows the end of her sentence. He should have thought of that before he pressed her against a wall and stuck his tongue down her throat.

"Yeah, well I did, and I'm sorry," he says. "But we have to work together, we can't just leave this."

"If that's what your issue is, I'll ask Chloe to assign someone else to the record," she says casually. They both nod as a colleague walks past.

He bites down on the inside of his cheek. "That's not really the best solution is it, now."

She huffs, and all of a sudden she's whirling around and grabbing him and pushing him into a doorway he'd barely noticed. It's dark and cramped so she's standing ridiculously close to him, which really, in light of their history isn't the best idea, but it appears following her down corridors has grown increasingly more difficult for Beca. He can feel something pressing into his back and is that the smell of bleach? Yep, definitely a cleaning closet.

"Look, you're new, I get that, you're feeling the pressure to prove yourself and whatever so you're a little stressed. You kissed your boss's wife by accident, and that sucks, and I'm sorry, really. You should know that this is not exactly something I do on a regular basis okay?" Her eyes are piercing despite the darkness. "I do not go around getting guys drunk, I do not make out with strangers, I do not let said strangers kiss me against walls. I don't know why this has happened but it has and it needs to stop." She pokes him in the chest angrily. "I'm married. I have a husband. I'm a wife. So whatever this thing is between us? It needs to stop. I can't keep doing this."

However inappropriate it may be, Jesse can't help but find her extremely attractive. "I can't keep doing this either. I'm really not the type to go around having affairs with married women, especially women who are married to the boss of my boss!"

"Good, then!" she replies. He's suddenly very aware of the tiny amount of space between them. "So we're agreed. No more drinking, no more walls, no more anything."

"Strictly professional," he agrees, but he's feeling a little breathless because her hand just somehow grazed his thigh. She's quiet for a moment and he wishes she'd just leave, step away from him and out of the door because with every passing second it's getting more and more difficult to stop himself kissing her.

"Stop doing that," she whispers. He can just make out the shape of her face, the only light in the tiny space coming from the space under the door.

"Doing what?"

"Whatever you're doing."

Her hand brushes against his.

"I'm not doing anything."

His fingers thread between hers.

"Jesse we can't."

Her breath washes against his cheek.

"You're married."

"I'm married."

"It's wrong."

"So very, very wrong."

Her palm presses against his hip bone.

"Someone could come in any minute."

"Including my husband."

"I hate your husband."

Her lips are a millimetre away. He thinks he hears her breathe, "Me too."

But then her warmth is gone and she's catching her breath, trying to put as much space between them as possible in the cramped cupboard. Jesse exhales heavily and scrubs a hand down his face. Why can't he stay away from her?

"Jesse?" Her voice is quiet, hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"You need to go."

He doesn't want to.

"You need to go before we do something stupid."

He blinks hard. He can't seem to get his legs to work. "Okay."

A pause that seems to stretch on forever. Neither of them move, and he's pretty sure she's stopped breathing. Everything in him aches, all of his muscles clenched awkwardly and whatever it is pressing into his back is beginning to really hurt, but he's scared if he moves even a tiny bit closer that he'll give in to his stupid, stupid desires.

"You're not leaving," she observes in a tight voice.

"I can't," he admits.

"Me neither."

He grimaces. "Can I ask you something?"

"Depends."

He powers on anyway. "Why are you married to Luke?"

Even though it's dark and he isn't actually touching her, he can feel the air shift as she tenses. "I'm not answering that."

"You're obviously not happy with him."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Her voice is thick and he's glad he can't see her. If he could see her anguished face, he'd probably have long since given into his ache to hold her.

"Where did you meet him?" he asks instead. The air is still tense.

"College."

He's silent for a beat. "I wish we'd gone to college together." He thinks maybe, just maybe, things would have different. Easier.

For the second time in that closet, he thinks he hears her say, "Me too."

* * *

At the end of the day, Jesse slumps over the reception desk with a file that needs mailing, Benji chuckling at his boneless stance over the taller section of the reception desk. Jesse is exhausted; after Beca had finally summoned the strength to leave the closet, he had busied his scattered mind with helping out a colleague who had too many things to do. He'd run errands and fetched coffees and started to prepare for his next big job; The Banned were coming back to record their debut album, and Jesse had a lot to prepare for. Not just with them, but with the inevitably large amount of contact he was about to go through with Beca. He has a lot of mental preparation to do in order to make it through the month long schedule of recordings and edits without jumping her.

"You look wiped out," Benji comments as he puts the enveloped file into the mailing pile, ready to be taken in the morning. Jesse groans into his arm and raises his head wearily, resting it on the heel of his hand.

"I think I might actually have to take a rain check on our movie tonight."

Benji smiles goodnaturedly. "Sure thing. But that means you forfeit your turn."

Jesse frowns. "That's hardly fair."

"Rules are rules!"

"Rules are made to broken."

"Then why are they made in the first place?" Benji retorts, and Jesse grimaces as he realises the truth behind the words. He sighs. Why does everything so easily link back to his not-so-much-a-mystery girl?

Benji starts preparing himself to go home, so Jesse lets his eyes wonder. The large waiting area is empty now at the late hour, and there's very few people rushing around in comparison to during the day. He sees a flash of red hair that he thinks might be Chloe, and there's two large men wheeling four large cardboard boxes across the lobby towards the elevators. Another man, tall this time, rushes towards the main doors, talking animatedly into his phone. Without all the usual people, the ground floor suddenly seems strangely empty. He wonders if their voices will echo if he talks loud enough.

Jesse lets his eyes close for a moment. He thinks back over his short time at the record label. He really likes it here, even if there is the whole Beca situation. Chloe is a great boss and he gets on well with her, the work is challenging but doable and he loves all the interaction, the hustle and bustle of it all. Every day is different and it makes him happy to climb out of bed every morning. He's made a lot of friends, most importantly Benji who has been great to have around. He likes living with the quirky part-time magician. He also gets on pretty well with Donald, who always has more amazing artwork to show him whenever they bump into each other in the break room. All in all, his time here had been great. He's really happy he got the job.

"Benji, be a dear and – oh my God!"

His eyes snap open and he immediately stands to attention. "No way!" he says in amazement. "No freaking way!"

"Jesse Swanson. Wow." The blonde grins at him and he grins right back.

"I could say the same about you!" He holds his arms out to her. "Aubrey Posen as I live and breathe."

She accepts his offer of a hug with a small laugh. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I work here! Up in A&R." He pulls back to look her over. "Don't tell me I've been here a month and am yet to realise my queen is in the building."

She gapes a little at him. Benji's eyes flicker between them in confusion. "No way, A&R? Chloe mentioned to me there was a new kid but I can't believe it was _you_!" She takes him in and he can't keep the smile off his face. "I'm up in marketing, I run the whole department!"

"Why does that not surprise me?" he teases.

She shrugs. "I got in here early, back when Luke first set it up. I proved myself so now I get to be one of the youngest Senior Vice Presidents in the state."

"Wow, Aubrey that's really great."

Benji chooses now to speak up. "So you two know each other?"

Jesse turns him with excited twinkling in his eyes. "Oh we don't just _know _each other."

"Ew, Jesse don't say things like that." She pushes his shoulder and smiles at Benji. "We lived next to each other as kids."

He scoffs. "If you're going to explain our history, at least do it right Posen."

She rolls her eyes but lets him continue. "Yes, we grew up together, but we also went to high school together, _and_ went to prom together our senior year."

"Oh, I see." Benji nods in understanding. "You two were a thing?"

At the same time, both Aubrey and Jesse laugh once and roll their eyes.

"You sound like pretty much everyone we knew back then," she says dryly, "Including our parents."

"You know Aubrey was prom queen?" Jesse tells his roommate. "She was _that _girl at our school."

Aubrey raises an eyebrow at him. "Says the boy crowned king."

Jesse brushes imaginary lint off his chest. "The obvious choice."

Aubrey slaps his shoulder again and leans against the desk with her hip. "He was a pretty decent guy. He very graciously stepped in as my date after my boyfriend at the time bailed," she explains to Benji.

Jesse shrugs it off. "Oh! Did you know Unicycle is here in town?" he asks her.

She smirks. "He still goes by Unicycle?"

"Yeah, apparently the nickname remains stuck to him." He then amends himself, "Well, when he's not playing cop, that is."

Aubrey gasps. "He's a cop now?"

"Yeah." Jesse nods. "He let me crash on his couch when I first got here. He's single, you know."

Aubrey glares mockingly at him when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "It's been what, seven, eight years since we broke up? I think we're a little past our time."

Jesse smirks. "If you say so."

"I can't believe I've bumped into you, this is crazy," she says wistfully, but she's checking her watch. "I really, really want to catch up properly but I still have a video conference to get through before I can go home."

"We could maybe get lunch sometime?" he suggests hopefully. He's surprised at how much he hadn't realised he'd missed her, and it's good to see another old friend here. The blonde had been a good friend to him throughout his childhood, and he's eager to find out where life took her.

She smiles at him. "That'd be great. I'll email you, okay?"

"Definitely." She goes in for another hug just as he gets the strange feeling of eyes on his back. He wraps an arm around Aubrey and at the same time, his echoing theory is put into play.

"…Wish I could come to the meeting but you know I'm slammed at the moment…"

"Luke this is important to me…"

When he pulls away he can't help but turn to the sound of that voice, and there she is, watching him intently as she walks towards the large rotating doors of the exit. Luke's arm is loosely around her waist and she's scowling, not at him but at the conversation she's having, and he flashes her a quick smile as he catches her eye. Immediately, Beca looks away, but within seconds her eyes are back and he says goodbye to Aubrey without looking at her. He can't tear his eyes away from the brunette staring at him.

She looks away first. Beca and Luke disappear into the dark streets outside and Jesse is left standing there with the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't know how long he's there, staring at the door like an idiot, but Benji struggles to successively break his concentration. "You ready to go?"

Jesse glances back at him anxiously and puts on his best smile. "Absolutely."

* * *

**You guys didn't think I wouldn't include Aubrey right? I'm actually pretty excited about her role in this story, because I just changed her back story to this having-a-past-with-Jesse thing. However, don't go crazy on me, there won't be any romantic involvement (the thought actually makes me a little pale) but it will tie in for some interesting moments later on. Also, I know she seems a little OOC, but I figured she'd be like everyone is when you see someone you knew as a kid; you revert back to being little and fall into easy patterns. Bitch!Aubrey will be rearing her head, don't you flatbutts worry.**

**Thank you for all of your lovely reviews last chapter! It was great to hear all of your opinions (especially on the nakedness front) so now I pose another interesting question; how many of you are planning on watching 21 & Over? And also, does anyone have any thoughts on The Last Five Years that Anna Kendrick is supposed to be staring in? I think it sounds pretty awesome but what's the general consensus?**


	6. Pookie

**This story has finally recaptured my imagination, and all it took was a good injection of Aubrey! She's actually pretty OOC here - more Anna Camp than Aubrey Posen - but oh well, I figure she's more grown up now so less stressy. She'll be in the next chapter as well in a pretty awesome way (bring on the bitch).**

**Thank you for all your awesome reviews. You've all been super great and I've loved reading them all (I think I have some still to reply to so sorry for that!) and keep them coming! I really enjoy seeing what you all think :)**

* * *

**6 – POOKIE**

"Jesse, you ready?"

He glances up from his stack of papers to see Aubrey hovering near by, a cute pink floaty dress that sways around her knees complimenting her green eyes. She seems a little anxious, her eyes flickering around, and he guesses she doesn't leave her department – or maybe even her office – all that much. Gathering his things, he gets up to give her a hug in greeting.

"Ready when you are, Pookie."

Her eyes flash and she glares at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Don't you dare bring that back."

"Sorry, Pookie."

"I'm serious, stop it." They start to walk out of the offices as he teases her, grinning like a child at her discomfort for the old nickname.

"Yes Pookie."

"Pookie? I didn't have you down as one of those guys, Jesse."

Aubrey and Jesse turn slowly around to the redhead who is looking at them with a cheeky smile. "Hey, Aubrey, I see you know our new guy already."

"I wish you'd mentioned his name!" Aubrey exclaims. "That way I would have known sooner that my stalker has finally found me."

He puts a hand on his chest in mock disbelief. "Excuse me, that is no way to present me to my boss, and _me _stalk _you_? Please, you're the one who had a crush on me all the way through fifth grade."

Aubrey flushes a little and Chloe's eyes flicker between them in interest. "Oh so you guys grew up together? Aw, cute!"

"We were neighbours." He can see the clogs turning in Chloe's brain and he doesn't like where they leading. He knows from his short time at the label that Chloe has a habit of presuming things and the last thing he needs is the threat of another scandal here. "I bumped into her at reception a few days ago, we were just going to catch up over lunch. Am I cool to go?"

"You can take your break but you've been summoned from the God's above first." Chloe hands him a small cardboard box the size of his hand, back in professional mode. "Beca's asked for these asap and I'd do it for you but I have a meeting – oh, crap - two minutes ago and besides, it's your job." She checks her watch again and winces. Jesse does the same at the thought of facing the brunette again.

"I have to go," the redhead continues, already walking backwards towards her office, "But enjoy your lunch, and Aubrey you still on drinks this weekend?"

"Of course!" Aubrey calls, and they wave their goodbyes. She turns back to him and smiles politely. "Detour to the eighth floor before we go then?"

Jesse manages a tight smile. "Looks that way."

As they take the elevator Jesse fills her in on his new apartment with Benji, about the highs and lows of living with a Star Wars fanatic and the dangers of his magic (He'd already dealt with a fire and three cases of escaping animals). They fall effortlessly back into their roles from high school, laughing and mocking each other easily. He's so comfortable talking to her that he doesn't pay attention to the clenching of his stomach at the thought of seeing Beca again, not until he's barged into her studio without knocking.

"Take your time," the brunette grumbles without looking up from her mixing board, absently holding a hand out towards him.

"You're lucky Chloe caught me, I was just about to go out for lunch." He walks further into the room tapping the almost weightless box against his fingers.

"That's great," she mumbles, frowning at something. Her fingers curve into her palm as she beckons for her parcel. "Box?"

"You know, you have very few manners." He smiles at her back as he sees her roll her eyes in the reflection of the glass window.

"Please?" It's said through gritted teeth with too much sweetness and it just makes his smile grow.

"Jesse?" Aubrey sticks her head around the door and narrows her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Beca's back immediately straightens and she spins in her chair, a surprised look on her face.

"Aubrey, hi."

"Hello Beca," the blonde says in a somewhat forced politeness. Jesse glances between them oddly. "You look well."

Beca's gaze drops to the floor and he's surprised at how easily she gave into the strange almost-staring match they were just having. "Thanks."

"We were just going to lunch so uh…" Jesse doesn't know why he feels the need to explain himself to her, but there's something about the tension in the room that makes him start to babble. "Aubrey and I were friends as kids, we were just going –"

"That's nice," Beca cuts him off, spinning in her chair to look back at her work. "Enjoy yourselves."

He feels the frown forming between his brow. "Thanks. Uh I'll see you later I guess?"

Her hand waves in dismissal and he realises her box is still in his hands. Walking towards her, he places it beside her bent elbow, his knuckles grazing her accidently. She flinches at the touch but relaxes when she sees him in the window's reflection. He thinks there's a strange sadness in her eyes, but she blinks and it's gone and he puts it down to the light reflecting weirdly.

The tense moment goes on for too long, their eyes trapped in a stare through the unclear reflection. She licks her lips and he tries to keep his breathing even, because if he starts thinking about the way her lips feel against his then he'll never make it to lunch and his old friend might get a little more than she bargained for out of their detour. So, instead, he rips his gaze away and puts a hand on her shoulder for his silent goodbye, only lingering for a second, before walking towards Aubrey still standing in the doorway.

"Come on Pookie," he says after he's closed the door to the studio. "Let's go eat."

* * *

"Okay, I gotta know something," he asks through his amusement a little ways into their pizza lunch. "You're what, 26 now?"

"As of last month." She nods as she talks and takes another bite of her Hawaiian pizza.

"How does a 26 year old college drop-out end up the Senior Vice President of the Marketing department at a major record label?"

She laughs, her head thrown back. "Is that really my defining feature; that I dropped out of college?"

"Well you cut your hair so you can't be Rapunzel anymore," he teases, flicking one of her curls and making her laugh again.

"Hey, I'd like to see you take care of hair that reaches your ass."

"Fair point. Seriously, how did you do it?"

She shrugs. "I don't know really. I was waitressing to earn money after I got tired of law, and the place I worked at started doing open mic nights." She talks animatedly with her hands. "They needed to get the word spread so I started making posters, calling up local newspapers and exchanging free ads for articles and whatnot. One night, about six months after I started working there, this couple walk in, who I now of course know to be Luke and Beca."

"Oh." He immediately leans further forward, instantly more engaged.

"I didn't pay them too much attention because they weren't in my quadrant, but they were laughing away in the corner, getting all hyped up about some act that was about to perform. They were cute, you know, in the way that most newlyweds are."

"Newlyweds?" he echoes anxiously. That tightness is in his stomach again and he's completely forgotten about his food.

"Yeah, they were honeymooning here; I think she told me once that it was supposed to be a glimpse into their future after she graduated college." Aubrey is picking at her pizza, completely unaware of how important what she was saying is to him.

"They got married before she graduated?"

She eyes him strangely for a moment but answers him. "Yeah, in her junior year. They met when she was a freshman and he was a senior. He stuck around for her, waited for her to graduate too."

"Huh," He says in forced disinterest, because he doesn't need Aubrey knowing what he's been doing. She's always been able to read him like a book, but she's obviously quite close to Luke and Beca (despite the tension he had felt earlier) and the last thing he needs is someone knowing who might slip up and tell Luke.

"Anyway," she tries to continue, "So they were watching this act and he was taking some notes, and then he's talking to one of the other waitresses, who beckons me over. Turns out he'd heard of the place because of my ads, and he started telling me about this record label he was setting up. Asked if I was interested."

"And you said yes?"

"No." She smiles at the memory, her eyes glazing over. "I struggled enough with money then, I didn't need some guy making empty promises about stuff. Besides, they were going back to Georgia so Beca could complete her last year, so they weren't even going to be here to do anything about his apparent dream. So I turned him down."

"So how did he persuade you?" Jesse's engrossed in the story, though he berates himself at the reason behind it; he's drinking in all he can about Beca, loving this tiny glance into her past, hating that Luke is still there, still with her, and that he had obviously dug his claws into her at such a young age.

"When she graduated they moved out here and he tracked me down. The open mic nights weren't helping business and finance and all at the diner I worked at, and no one was hiring, so it was either get laid off or take the risk."

"And the risk paid off." Jesse smiles at her and she nods, a happy gleam to her eyes. "I'm so glad everything worked out for you."

"It was touch and go for a while," she explains, "But everything improved dramatically when they hired Ralph." When Jesse tilts his head in confusion she elaborates. "He was the head of your department; Chloe does his job now, though she's not officially the head yet."

"What happened to Ralph?"

A look of anger passes over Aubrey's features. "Idiot got himself involved in drug dealing, apparently he was having financial issues at home and he needed a way to make the extra cash." She sighs. "I wish he'd come to us, asked for help."

"What happened to him?"

"Police caught him with his suppliers about two months ago, got shot in the crossfire."

"Oh." He sees the sadness there in the downturn of her mouth, so he touches the back of her hand in support. "He was a friend?"

"He turned the label into what it is today. He had all this experience and knowledge and he helped Luke out a lot, got it going, made contacts with agents and everything. The whole label was very sad to see him go, even if it was his own fault for getting caught up in all that stuff." She smiles sadly and straightens her posture.

"Look at us, talking about the sad stuff when you haven't even told me about your life! Come on, fill me in, tell me all about college."

She takes a bite of her pizza and he grins at her. "College was great. I was the most stereotypical student in the book."

She smiles warmly at the childish spark in the way he talks. "Oh dear, I can only imagine."

"Aubrey, oh you should have seen me, I was in my element!" He grins. "I drank loads, almost fell in love, joined an acapella group and actually won titles for it, I broke bones –"

"Hold up." She raises a hand to silence him. "Almost everything about that list needs to be explained. Firstly, you joined an _acapella_ group?"

"I know what you're thinking," he laughs as she raises an eyebrow. "But it was really great. You'd have loved it. We won championships and everything."

"Okay then." She presses her lips together to suppress the laugh at his over-eager attitude towards it. "And you almost fell in love? What's that about?"

"Oh, some girl called Juliet." He waves a hand to dismiss it. "It was basically over before it began, I got over it pretty quickly."

"Sounds like I missed out on a lot." She tries to keep her tone light but he catches the undercurrent there.

"It's okay, you don't need to feel sad about it." He clasps her hand with a sincere smile. "We went our separate ways – hell we were on different sides of the country! People fall out of contact all the time, it's normal."

"Still," she sighs, "We were best friends and we both just stopped talking."

He thinks back to that first year in college, how they had tried so hard - Skyping every weekend, messaging whenever they could, right up until she dropped the bombshell that she'd quit college. There had been no warning; he hadn't known she was so unhappy there, that she had struggled to cope with it all. And after she moved out of her dorm and further into the city, she had been so busy trying to stay afloat and he was so distracted with school work and singing, that they had just lost their friendship along the way. Sometimes, when he didn't have much to do, he would miss her company, but he didn't try to talk to her and there was always a radio silence from her.

"Well, look at us now," he says, trying to keep upbeat. "Obviously the stars have finally aligned and bought us back together."

She smirks. "Wow, I didn't know it was possible but you're actually _more _cheesy now than you were before! You really need to get a grip on that movie obsession of yours."

He throws his head back with a laugh. "It's your fault, Pookie! You're the one who got me into most of them!"

She gapes at him. "What? No way!"

"You made me sit through three viewings of _The Notebook_ in the space of a week."

"Because _you_ forced me to watch the entire _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy."

"That's not the same, not watching _Lord of the Rings _before you die is like, having an incomplete life."

"Same with _The Notebook_!"

"That doesn't justify three viewings in six days!"

She flicks pineapple at him as he laughs at her pouting expression, and it occurs to him that this is the last sign; Aubrey's presence here confirms to him that this is exactly where he is supposed to be, and yes he's made a few mistakes already but that's okay, because he has his friends here and a place to live and a good job. The only thing blocking his idea of a pretty damn perfect life is his situation with Beca, but how hard can it be to get over her, right?

* * *

**Firstly, I apologise for the Pookie thing. I don't know where it came from, but it happened and I have a backstory for it at some point so don't worry, you'll find out soon.**

**Secondly, you'll all be thrilled to know that I'm about 95% certain the next chapter will be written from Beca's perspective. I think it's time to see what she's thinking about this all, considering she's the married woman with all the tension for another man. You've had some answers for her already in this chapter, but I will be revealing quite a bit more about her home life with Luke. I know you're all eager to know because I've had actual bribes sent to me (you know who you are...) so I'll definitely be shedding some light on it all. The main question you seem to be asking is ****_why_**** she's married to him, and while the answer is quite obvious, I'll be making sure to include that. **

**To follow on from this, I was wondering what else you guys want to know from her chapter? Obviously I can't reveal everything about the story arc, but anything in particular you want to know about her past? I'll try to answer as many questions as I can within the chapter or at a later date.**

**Thanks for your continued support! Hugs to you all.**

**EDIT I need a creative name for an acapella group (one not mentioned in the movie), any suggestions? It doesn't need to be gender specific, but if it is then geared towards males please.**


	7. Day In The Life (1)

**I wrote this chapter on the same day I wrote chapter 6, and I started at 7am and finished at just gone 2am. To give you an idea of how long this chapter took, I finished chapter 6 at 10.30am. That's right people, I spent over 16 hours, non stop, writing this chapter, never mind the good hour and a half it took to edit. I have never been so exhausted in my entire life, but it was so worth it (don't think I'm complaining, just giving you an idea of how long it takes to write a chapter that is over 11,000 words). I am splitting this up into two parts basically because it will make my updates a little more regular, as I won't get a chance to write the next part until this weekend. I know this is a bit annoying, but I think it's best for the story, and if you want to you can wait to read this until I've posted the second part in a few days to read as a whole.**

**Anyway, here it is; part one of a day in the life of Beca Mitchell that starts like any other but is apparently destined to try and break her.**

* * *

**7 – A DAY IN THE LIFE (1)**

Beca wakes with a start, sweat dripping down her back and tears streaking her face. Huffing, she wipes furiously at her face. She stretches long and high - This kind of start to the day is normal for her. She doesn't even flinch anymore, instead just climbing out of her bed and heading straight for the shower to wash the bad dreams away.

As the water rains down on her, she can't stop her thoughts turning to a certain brown eyed liaison. In the secluded privacy of the bathroom, she can think of him without worrying about who might see, without trying to convince herself that he's just a distraction, a disruption to her life she doesn't need (but secretly wants).

She does want him. She hates it, because everything points at Jesse being bad news for her. But she can't help thinking of his smile, or how his fingers feel in her hair and against her hips, how his eyes sparkle with a boyish energy she has never found appealing before. He's not her type but somehow that makes him better, in a terrible way that makes her heart clench because _he is so wrong for her_.

She groans. She's barely been awake five minutes and already she's lost in thoughts of him.

The house is eerily quiet when she finally makes it back to her room, so she plays an old mix through her speakers, turning the bass up so it thumps through the walls. She gets dressed quickly, throwing on a dark pair of jeans and a deep blue blouse. Her make up takes longer but soon she's ready for work, and she heads to the kitchen to grab breakfast before setting off.

It isn't until she gets to work and spots Benji at the reception desk that she realises what today is – it's the first day of recording for that band Jesse is attached to – she forgets their name, something punny – and that she is effectively going to spend the whole day with him lingering behind her, watching her work with those eyes and smiling that ridiculous grin he always seems to wear… _No, stop thinking like that, _she berates herself. She heads towards reception, doing her best to fake a smile for the just as nerdy boy who is grinning at her.

"Hey Beca," he greets kindly. "How are you today?"

"Fine," she answers shortly. "Anything for me?"

"Yeah, actually." He jumps into action, rummaging through a box under the desk. He comes up trumps, handing her a thick manila envelope. "Here you go."

"Thanks." She dawdles for a moment, hesitating in her normal path to the elevator. "So, uh, Benji, I hear you got a new roommate."

He glances back up at her from his computer screen, an instant grin there at the mention of it. She thinks it's sweet, how excited he is to have a friend. She suddenly feels bad for all the times she's just dismissed him so quickly before getting to know him. "Yeah, Jesse. I think he said he's working with you; you know him?"

Good, so Benji didn't know their secret. "Yeah, I know him," she responds vaguely, running a finger along the edge of her mail.

His eyes gleam as he starts tapping different options on the screen. "I'm sure he's a bit of a pain for you."

"You can say that again," she mutters without really thinking about it, her response more for her view rather than what Benji means.

Benji just chuckles and shakes his head. "You'll get used to him. He's a good guy."

She taps her finger against the corner of the envelope and tries to suppress a smile, looking away to the floor. "Yeah, well. I'm glad you get along with him, in any case. Good to see you all chipper again."

A tiny frown clouds his face but disappears quickly. "Have a good day," he says with a sweet smile.

As she walks away, she hopes that maybe that's her social quota filled for the day, that maybe she can just get on with her day and then go home and back to bed, but about twenty paces from the elevator she spots Chloe in her periphery, jogging to catch up to her. Beca tries to keep face open, friendly, and not reflect the massive amount of i-do-not-want-to-talk-right-now-itus that she seems to have today.

"Hey there, stranger!" Chloe calls warmly, bumping their elbows when she reaches her side.

"Hey," she tries lamely, pressing the button for the elevator. She keeps her eyes forward.

"I've not seen you in a while," Chloe continues on as Beca is used to, "How are you?"

"Fine." An elevator dings with its arrival and they head towards it.

"Aubrey and I are going out for drinks tonight," she persists, not seeming to notice the tiny flinch at the mention of their blonde friend. "You should join us!"

"Ah, I don't know." She bites her lip. "I'm not really –"

"Come on, I insist!" Chloe presses the buttons for their respective floors and the doors close quietly. "It'll be good fun, I promise. Like the good old days!"

Beca grimaces. "I don't know, I have to get home –"

"No, come on, I'm not taking no for an answer." She grabs her hands and her eyes are doing that widening thing that Chloe knows gets her.

"Maybe," Beca concedes, much to Chloe's apparent delight. "It's not definite, don't get your hopes up."

The doors open at Chloe's floor and the redhead grins at her as she leaves. "See you tonight!"

"I'm only a maybe!" Beca calls through the closing doors.

"Hector's at 8!" she replies, and the doors shut before Beca can protest anymore.

* * *

Beca rotates her neck slowly, trying to work out the cricks that have developed from a tense three hours of recording - and trying not to lose her focus due to the hairs on the back of her neck standing up the whole time. She wants to tell him off for staring at her so obviously, or perhaps just give in to the (embarrassingly large) part of her that wants to lay him back down on that couch and kiss him silly, but the girls – from The Banned, because she knows their name now – are taking their time leaving the recording space for lunch out with Bumper: The guy who is also an issue to her wrong-in-every-way-possible plan, because he's chatting to Jesse behind her about, of all things, collegiate acapella.

"I can't believe you were a captain of the Treble Makers," Jesse says for what has to be the third time in the space of the two minutes he's known Bumper's old past time.

"You better believe it! I was king."

She can't help but scoff at this, which draws their attention. Crap. "Oh please," she says, spinning in her chair to face them. "You are so full of shit, no one actually gave a damn about that group, you know."

Jesse smirks at her and Bumper struggles over his words he's so insulted. "Excuse me, but explain that to the eight girls I banged."

Beca just quirks an eyebrow in amusement. "Eight girls in four years? Yeah, definitely king."

Bumper glares at him and Jesse laughs out loud. She turns her gaze to him, because he's just lounging there on her couch like he owns the place and it's annoying her beyond words. "At least he was a member of a successful group no one cared about; unlike you."

His smile dims a little. "No fair, you can't insult my group, us WyClefs were awesome."

She tries not to laugh at the ridiculous name. It's even worse than the Treble's. "I doubt that."

"You don't even know them, how can you judge?"

"Because," Bumper interjects, "She thinks the only group capable of being great is her group."

Beca wants to kill Bumper in that moment. She wants to throw something sharp at him or hit him over the head with anything she can find. Jesse's eyebrows are rising slowly in realisation - in amusement - and she hates Bumper with a passion.

"Oh really?" Jesse's eyebrows are now so high up his forehead she thinks they might get lose in his hairline if he isn't careful. "Beca was an acapella girl?"

"Not just girl, she was _captain_."

She _despises_ Bumper.

"Captain?!"

"You're an asshole," she hisses through gritted teeth at Bumper, who is just laughing at her anger.

"Don't be embarrassed, I'm not too proud to admit that she was actually pretty good at it," Bumper says, watching Jesse as this shit-eating grin stretches across his face. With that and the eyebrows, it looks like the features of his face are slowly being stretched wider from within.

She scoffs again, because damnit she's proud of her achievements with her girls. "I wasn't just _good_, I was incredible. We were all incredible."

"First freshman captain in history of her group; her legendary mixes led them to four consecutive national titles." Bumper actually sounds quite proud of her, and she feels herself soften a little at it. The memories of her time with her misfit band of girls make her smile despite herself.

"Oh my God," Jesse says with wide eyes. "_You_ were the head of the Barden Bellas?"

Smirking, she can't help herself saying, "You better believe it."

"No way!" He smacks his knee with amazement and leans further back into the couch. "This – Wow, my view of you has completely changed. The Bella's?! Really?"

"What you trying to say, Swanson?"

"We watched you guys perform once, you were really good." He smiles at her in a way that makes her heart rate pick up. "You girls are legends!"

"Yeah, well." She turns around her chair, needing a little time without very obviously trying to avoid his gaze.

But she has no such luck, because the girls finally emerge from the recording space and they disappear with Bumper in tow, leaving her and Jesse to sit there alone in a dimly lit room. It's so quiet that she can make out his breathing, and she can't think of a reason to leave that doesn't alert him to how uncomfortable she feels.

"I can't believe you went to college with that guy," Jesse says casually, but she can't help but wonder who he really means; Bumper or Luke?

"I need you to know something," she blurts before she can second guess herself, spinning around again to face him. She doesn't go to the couch to make this confession easier. If she goes to the couch, she can't control what will happen. At least over here she can pretend she has a grip on herself.

"Okay." His expression is open, ready, one ankle resting on top of his other knee as he slouches back. At the mention of her husband's name, however, he sits bolt upright.

"Luke is," she hesitates, "Luke is a good guy. I know people talk a lot of crap about him here but he's not _bad_."

"Okay." It's not an agreement, more just a confirmation that he actually heard her make words, so she grits her teeth and tries again.

"You've seen me arguing with him, you know we clash a lot." She leans forward on her knees and laces her fingers together. "Just because we do that doesn't mean I don't - don't love him."

His lips narrow slightly into a straight line but he doesn't respond in any other way. She doesn't know why she struggled so much to say that. She loves Luke. Of course she does; she's married to him. Luke is her husband, the husband she loves no matter what. Yes, the man in front of her makes her stomach flip strangely and her heart race, but it doesn't mean anything. _She loves Luke._

She sighs. Even the thoughts in her head don't sound too convinced anymore.

Jesse is looking down at his lap. She doesn't think she's seen him without at least the tiniest grin on his face before. There's an ache somewhere deep inside her and it makes her wheel closer, trying to better catch his eyes with hers.

"I'm the bad one," she whispers, "He's been so good to me, and I'm the one having to physically force myself to not get too close to his new employee." He's still not responding, so she goes against her better instincts and moves to sit beside him on the couch, taking his hands in hers. "Jesse, I know that… Look, we have to work together pretty much every day for the next month. And we need to find a way to navigate through it all without doing something stupid that could ruin my marriage."

He sighs and finally looks up at her. He looks so sad, his expressive brown eyes captivating her. "I won't put you in that position. I promise."

Plastering a fake smile on her face, she wonders why she feels the tiniest bit disappointed. "Thank you."

Before she can say anything else, her assistant barges into the room, out of breath too much to apparently notice how the pair on the couch jump apart in a way that cannot be made to look innocent. Beca stands and steps towards Amy and away from Jesse, a firm glare on her face.

"Where the hell have you been?" she seethes to her no longer missing employee.

"I'm sorry." Amy gasps for breath. "I went to a party and had too much to drink and woke up on the complete other side of town."

Her eyebrows raise exponentially. "Are you serious right now? You went missing on the first day of an album recording because _you got drunk_?!"

Amy doesn't seem to see the issue here. "Yes."

"That is it Amy!" Beca fumes, hands clenched into fists. "You are fired! I cannot handle the stress of you anymore!"

But Amy just nods and doesn't even bat an eye. "You didn't have your coffee this morning did you?"

Beca grinds her teeth. "Because _someone _wasn't here to get it for me."

Amy produces a thermos out of her bag and hands it to her, an innocent look on her face that seems misplaced on her. "I also got you your favourite."

When Beca's hand touches the bag of peach flavoured chewy candy, she notes how annoying it is that Jesse is here to see this. For one, because she knows he'll remember this and will no doubt save it to use to his advantage one day soon. But also because he can see how well Amy has her wrapped around her finger. The blonde girl is a blessing to her, no matter how unreliable or inappropriate she is. She keeps her grounded, makes sure she's ready to face each day. Amy is her friend, and no matter how much Beca wants to rip her throat out sometimes, Amy is well aware that Beca wouldn't dare get rid of her in fear that there is no one better suited to be her right hand man.

"I'm going to get lunch," Jesse says, apparently sensing her distress, "Do you want anything or…?"

"I wouldn't mind a piece of you," Amy say with a sly grin, and Beca pressed her lips together hard to not laugh at how uncomfortable he looks at her reply.

"I'm fine thanks," Beca manages to get out with only a few laughs dispersed in between the words. "Just make sure you're back in about twenty minutes!"

Once he's left, Amy immediately pounces to the opposite side of the room, grabbing the unopened envelope from the place Beca had discarded it this morning. She sees it is still sealed and frowns her silent question to Beca, who is still standing uselessly in the middle of the room.

She rips open her candy bag and shrugs her shoulders. "I'll get around to it."

"Get around to it?" Amy repeats incredulously, flapping the envelope around carelessly. "This is a big deal! Why haven't you opened this yet?"

Beca sighs, chewing slowly on a piece of her make-do lunch. "Because that's not just a stack of papers; you're right because it is a big deal, it's bigger than a big deal, and I need a bit of time to adjust to what _that_ is."

"You've had months to adjust," Amy replies, still waving it in her face, "Come on, the time is now!"

She sighs and Amy's face softens a little.

"You haven't told him, have you?"

Her grimace is the only answer Amy needs.

"Well then, you can go tell him now because he wants to see you."

Beca's eyes widen. "Since when?"

"I got told about an hour ago so…"

But Beca is already out of the door, because if there is one thing she does know, it's not to leave her husband waiting at work. So she hurries along to the stairs at the back of the building, closer to her studio than the elevator, and she rushes up them. When she reaches the top she flicks her hair out of her face, taking a few calming breaths before walking casually out into the corridor, picking out a sweet and chewing on it as she walks into his office unannounced.

Luke is talking into his phone about deliveries or some other stuff she doesn't really care about, and he's looking out of his giant window to the streets of LA below him. The door closes behind her and she walks across his giant office (obnoxiously large, as she has pointed on several occasions) to the red couch pushed against one of the walls, falling heavily into the leather with a content sigh. She had bought it for him when they first moved to the building two years ago, though it's mostly used for her leisurely purposes when she rarely drops in or frequently gets called up. There's a pillow and a cushion tucked under it, and she pulls the pillow out to prop up her head.

Hearing her sigh, he turns a little to raise a finger to her, indicating to wait a minute, so she kicks her heels up, stretching across the two seater while she chews on her favourite treat happily. It is peaceful in his office, and she lets her eyes close contently.

"I don't care what he says, we need it delivered by tomorrow morning or we lose the contract," he says into the phone, his tone harsh, and she tunes him out and instead gets lost in her own head. Her thoughts skim over the envelope and its contents, the drinks invitation for the evening, the demanding schedule for the album. An all too familiar face flashes across her eyelids, so instead she thinks about how much she likes peach flavoured candy.

"Hey baby." The lips pressing absently against her forehead jolt her back to the real world and she opens her eyes to see Luke leaning over her. He doesn't look angry at her late arrival, so she guesses the matter isn't that important, in which case she wishes she could have instead gone and gotten a proper lunch because she's starving, and the half-empty bag in her hand can only do so much.

"You didn't come home last night," she says quietly, watching his eyes close tiredly.

"I'm sorry, there was just a ton to do here and by the time I was done it just didn't seem worth it."

He moves away, back to his desk, and she tries not to take his comment personally. Instead, she stays in her comfortable position and asks, "What did you need me for?"

Back when they were first married, before life got in the way and then tore them apart, when they were happy and care free, Luke would have responded by saying something like, 'I needed to see your beautiful face,' or 'Just wanted to check in, see how you are.' But nowadays, Luke is all about the job, so he replies, "You still haven't given me that response on the tracks I sent to you, and you're behind on three deadlines."

He can't see her eye roll. "Yes, sir," she says dryly.

"I'm serious Becky, you need to up your game a bit more."

"Luke, I'm trying okay?" She keeps her eyes trained on the ceiling. "I'm slammed at the moment so I'll get it done when I can."

His groan of frustration seems to bounce off the walls and hit her a hundred times. "You should have gotten them done when you were supposed to, rather than wasting your time on that ridiculous secret project of yours."

Her lips purse. "Why do you have to make every little thing a big deal?"

"Excuse me?"

She sits up so she can glare at him across the room, sitting in that stupid oversized chair of his. "You heard me. You take all these tiny little things and make them into these huge disasters that make us fight all the time. Do you like shouting at me? Is that what it is? You enjoy treating me like I'm some kind of inferior in front of everyone that works here just because I'm your wife?"

It's like a thunder cloud has taken its place over him, he's that angry at her outburst. "Are you serious? The only reason we argue is because you're so bloody guarded! You don't let me in anymore –"

She knows what he is about to say so she cuts him off, laughing humourlessly. "Oh get over yourself, I know I'm not perfect but neither are you, Mr Bigshot with your fancy music label." She stands up, her eyes blazing. "I'm fed up of all your crap, everything that you throw at me and your stupid excuses. You know what, you better get used to sleeping on that couch because I'll be damned if you're coming back into my house tonight."

She spins on her heel and throws open his door, ignoring his demands to come back, ignoring the random employee she doesn't know the name of that had been hovering nervously at the door, ignoring Amy who is standing around the corner, her forgotten coffee thermos in her hands. Beca walks to the elevator, jamming the button over and over impatiently until the doors slide open. Amy slips in behind her, and once the doors shut she presses the emergency stop.

Her assistant doesn't say a word as Beca kicks at the wall of the elevator, hissing random insults aimed at Luke between her teeth, trying to release her anger. No, Amy stands in the corner, her back to her, because this way Beca can better pretend that she's not losing it in front of her friend and can pretend that someone doesn't know just how frustrating she finds her husband.

After a minute of throwing a tantrum, Beca collapses to the floor, leaning back against the spot she had kicked and taking a few deep breaths. Amy sits beside her, taking the cap off the coffee and holding it out for Beca to take. She's thankful for Amy, grateful for all she does without a single complaint. Yes, Amy has her faults, but Beca doesn't think she'd get by without her.

"When we get back to the studio," Beca says quietly after a few minutes and some oh-so-sweet gulps of coffee, "We're opening that envelope."

* * *

Their plan fails, because when she walks into her studio five minutes later, she is shocked to hear an unfamiliar melody filtering through from the recording space, a graceful tinkling of a piano that instantly eases her frazzled nerves. With Amy off fetching her lunch, Beca walks silently across to the window so she can see the baby grand, tucked into the corner.

Sitting there, rocking gently to a slow beat, is the back of Jesse Swanson.

She shouldn't find it that big a surprise. After all, the first thing he had told her about himself had been that he taught himself to play piano - and yet somehow seeing him there, actually playing _well_, throws her completely because she had never stopped to imagine it, to picture him on a stool with his hands flying up the scales, the music swelling pleasantly. It takes her breath away and suddenly she's forgotten how to use her limbs.

Beca doesn't really know why she keeps letting him affect her so much. It's irrational and strange and complicated, because he's just a guy in a bar that she met when she was drunk and lonely. Except he's not just that anymore, because Jesse is now this strange enigma to her. He has this weird hold on her that makes her do dumb things like drag him into cleaning closets and let him kiss her where anyone could see them. Somehow she can't quite make herself resist his charm. It's so wrong to be so attracted to him, and she wants to blame it on being vulnerable and lonely but there's something in her gut that says it's not just that - That no matter what her circumstances, she would still find Jesse a bit too irresistible.

Without being completely sure of it, her feet start moving of their own accord towards the door and when it opens, the music is louder, washing over her all over again. He hasn't heard her yet, too caught up in his song, so she just walks slowly towards him, watching him in interest as he sways from side to side, his fingers impossibly quick against the keys.

When her hands fall onto his shoulders, her touch feather light, he jumps slightly but never misses a note. Her stomach is millimetres from him and he leans back to close that tiny gap, using her ribs as a backrest as he plays. She doesn't say a word, not wanting to spoil the moment, so she lets her hands slip down his chest and clasps them together, leaning her chin against the crown of his head. It's a touching moment, one she knows should not be shared with the man who blurs her certainty that adultery is a terrible thing to commit, but she can't seem to stop herself. In his presence, that seems to happen a lot.

Drawing his song to a close, his fingers finally rest against the keys, perfectly still. Beca wants to kiss him, wants to let him twist her around and push her against the piano, pressing herself flush against him, but she also wants to stay in this moment forever, both content in their little bubble, her arms loosely looped around his neck.

Finally, after an extended pause of comfortable silence, he speaks quietly, cautiously. "Twenty minutes ago you told me not to make a move."

"Yes," she breathes, too afraid to use her voice. She can't believe that was only twenty minutes ago.

"There's a part of me that really doesn't to break that promise," he says softly, "But the other part of me really wants to kiss you right now."

She walks around him, her arms turning with her, until she sinks into his lap, his hands immediately wrapping around her waist. She gets trapped in his eyes, unable to look away to break the spell he's cast over her again. "I know," she manages to say in a strangled tone. She understands his struggle because she's facing the same dilemma, trapped between wanting to get close to him in a way that doesn't involve whiskey, but not wanting to be the unfaithful wife she already is.

"If I kiss you, it means we didn't even last one day." His eyes are full of anguish. "If I kiss you before the day is out then how are we supposed to make it a month?"

"I don't know," she admits, "I just know that I really want to kiss you without alcohol being involved."

"Don't." His voice is strained and his hands are firm on her hips, trying to push her further away. "Don't say that."

"I'm sorry," she pleads. A small smile graces his lips.

"You don't need to apologise for it."

"No." She shakes her head. "I'm sorry for this."

Her lips meet his on an intake of breath, and her fingers are instantly in his hair, tangling and pulling him closer. His grip on her hips is no longer pushing her away, rather pulling her to him, her hip bone pressing into his stomach at her strange angle. She revels in how he tastes without the bitterness of the whiskey, trying to commit it to memory.

In what may just be the luckiest moment she's ever had, the door to the studio squeaks loudly as it's opened, and she instantly jumps out of Jesse's lap, turning her back to the mixing room as she subtly arranges herself. Jesse is fussing, his hands fluttering around like he doesn't know what to do, so she nudges her toe against his ankle to get his attention and takes a breath, using her hand to urge him to do the same.

She turns casually, like she hadn't just almost been caught making out with her liaison, and realises just how lucky she is. Because her tiny room on the other side of the window is full of people, three of which are looking out at them in vague interest. She walks to them, leaving Jesse some time to gather himself, and she walks into the room, cool as a cucumber.

"Wow, lots of people," Beca observes as she takes in the new occupants. Amy has returned with her lunch, a take out bag in her fist, and she seems to have collected The Banned and Bumper on the way, as well as Donald from advertising who she doesn't know too well. Their departments don't mix almost ever, so she's confused by his presence.

"How did you guys enjoy lunch?" Beca asks as she skims her way through the people to her chair. If she's in the chair, she thinks, she can keep her cover. In her chair, she knows she can be herself.

"It was great," Stacie enthuses.

"Good, I'm glad. You ready to get back to work?" she asks as Jesse steps through the doorway, pausing at the giant amount of room occupants. Even in the dim lighting she can see his face pale at how close they came to having a crowd of witnesses.

"Of course they are!" Bumper puts his hands on Cynthia Rose's and Lily's shoulders. Amy takes them back into the recording space, readying them to continue recording their harmonies, and Bumper settles into the couch at the back. Donald's hands are in the pockets of his maroon hoody, smiling awkwardly.

"You alright, Donald?" Jesse asks, now able to close the door behind him.

"Yeah, actually, was coming to find you; I need your opinion on something for that magazine ad we discussed?" Jesse nods. "Is it cool if I steal him for about half hour?"

Eager for the time and space to think, Beca tries not to be too enthusiastic in her reply. "Of course, no problem."

Jesse glances at her, his face unreadable, and he disappears down the corridor, leaving her with Bumper, who looks completely uninterested in striking up a conversation. She is grateful for it, allowing the moment of silence to settle her, and when Amy stomps her way out of the sound proofed room, Beca flicks a few switches and presses a button down so she can talk into the spacious room in front of her.

"Okay girls, complete run through, from the top!"

* * *

"Get a good night sleep, you're going to need the rest," Beca advises as, finally, she says good bye to the over cheerful trio of girls and their cocky manager. Before the door has even closed behind them, she's got her head in her hands, pressing her fingers into her temples. Beca does not like working with first-timers, because they never know what they're doing and everything takes twice as long to complete. Having a group makes it even worse, and they barely got through half the things they were scheduled to complete today. She has a stress headache that has already formed, and she's full of pent up frustration at all the drama of the day.

Jesse's hands lay on her shoulders, much like hers had been on his five hours ago, except his thumbs are pressing into the knots between her shoulders. She groans despite herself, the pain of it pleasant enough to make her push back into his grip, making the pressure harder. Somehow it's exactly what she needs – well, almost exactly what she needs. His hands on her skin, his fingers brushing her collarbone, are enough to make her break out is goosebumps.

"Jesse." She moans as his thumb digs that much harder. "This is highly inappropriate behaviour."

"Giving you a massage isn't hitting on you," he whispers into her ear, his breath hot and making her shiver.

She wants to tell him it is, that he needs to stop before things get out of hand because they already know how easy it is to get caught, but he's doing such delicious work that instead, a different set of words slip out.

"Meet me outside The Trap in half an hour."

He freezes in his tracks, and though she isn't facing him she can imagine the look on his face, the furrow between his brow as he works through her words and figures them out. "What?"

"You heard me." She spins in her chair, out of his grasp, full of a strange confidence. "Thirty minutes. The Trap."

He nods mutely, and she ushers him out of the room, sending him in the direction of his desk and laughing quietly to herself when he stumbles in his daze. Her hands press together against her lips, and she can't help the smile on her face when she walks back into her studio, ready to start packing up her things for the end of the work day.

* * *

**Special thanks to _aliasphan_ who suggested the name of Jesse's acapella group - I laughed my head off at it! Also, much love the my creepy other half Hannagh with a g for staying up and dealing with my crazy paranoia. And lastly, to my favourite guest reviewer Grey; I hate that I can't reply to your reviews because I always want to, but know I really appreciate every one of them. I love your honesty and kind words so a big thank you for everything.**

**Part 2 should be up Saturday, but I might get over excited and post it tomorrow. In any case, still please spare a few seconds to let me know what you thought!**


	8. Day In The Life (2)

**Part 2! It's a big 'un, so get ready for some serious angsty angstness. Thank you for all the reviews for the last part, it was really interesting to read some of tour theories and see your thoughts! However I don't think anyone guessed what actually happens, whether that's good or not I don't know.**

* * *

**8 - DAY IN THE LIFE (2)**

Twenty six minutes later, Beca is standing outside the bar where they first met, her arms crossed to keep herself warm against the unseasonal chill in the air. Her bag is tucked safely under her arm, and she tries to keep her breaths even in the hope it will calm her erratic heartbeat. She is nervous but excited, and this only increases when she finally spots Jesse through the crowd, hurrying towards her.

"Hey you," she says warmly as he slows to a stop in front of her.

"What's up, weirdo." He smiles, but it's hesitant, and Beca helps put him at ease by putting a hand on his forearm.

"You didn't tell anyone where we're going right?"

"I don't even know where we're going." He shrugs. "Is there a reason I just had to rush through my work and sneak out without Chloe seeing me?"

"Yes. We're going somewhere secret."

He doesn't even pause to over think it. "We're going to your club at six in the evening?"

Her lips quirk up into a smile. "Yep."

She pulls the sleeve of his jacket to get him to follow, her pace a little too eager. He's a step behind her, his eyes darting around to make sure no one they know is around, so that he doesn't notice the tiny side street until she's yanking him down it towards the partly hidden door. She giggles at his stunned expression – because yes, apparently she giggles now – and she pulls a key from around her neck, pushing it into a disguised key hole and pushing the door open.

The club looks different to the last time she was here with him. There's no strobe lighting, no giant crowd of people, no thumping bass or neon glow from the bar. It is dark and cavernous, yet it's oddly homey to her. Pulling him behind her, she heads down the metal grated stairs and then lets him go, walking into the middle of the empty dance floor alone. She spins on the spot and hears him chuckle.

"This place is great, you know," he comments, walking slowly towards her.

"There are only two people that know I own this club. You and Amy." She looks up at him through her eyelashes and his admiring expression catches her off guard as he gets closer. It's torturously slow, enough to make her ankle bounce anxiously.

"I'm honoured." The cocky twist to his smile makes her heart clench.

He's only a few paces away but she's not done yet, so she turns suddenly and makes her way back over the stairs but instead aiming to the space under them. He tails her; she can feel him aching close behind her, but she carries on, pulling another key out of her pocket to unlock the second hidden door. Once it's open she feels around for the light switch, blinking hard when the light takes a second to adjust to.

"Wow, cool office," he comments off handedly, walking around her to take in the room. It's nothing special since she spends barely any time here; there's a cheap desk and an old couch from her first apartment with Luke, with stacks of records decorating unpainted shelves. There's a chair just like the one at the studio, the most expensive item in the room by a mile, but apart from that the room is basically empty.

Beca doesn't really care. All she cares about is the steps she's taking towards him, how her hands pull on his neck to spin him, the feel of his chest crashing into hers as she captures his mouth. She doesn't want to think of anything but his hands trailing across her back and her leg working its way up his outer thigh and they're both taking their time to take in the beauty of their moment.

Fingers wrap around her leg and she pulls away to jump up, taking a breath before she right back to kissing him hard. She doesn't even notice they're moving until she feels something solid underneath her – her desk, and she's never been more thankful that it's already clear of anything that could get in their way. Her fingers tug on his hair and her heels dig into the back of his thighs, and he's already making quick work of her blouse.

Once the blouse is discarded he starts peppering kisses down her neck, slowly lowering her until the cold wood contrasts harshly with the rising heat of her skin. She clings to him, making sure he's as close as possible; she knows she should be embarrassed at how desperate she is, but the way he makes tingles run straight from top of her head to her feet is enough to squash any blushes or awkward stutters. His teeth graze against her pulse point and her toes curl deliciously

"Beca," he hisses when her hips collide with his. His head drops to her shoulder. "Fuck, Beca we can't –"

"Yes we can," she gasps between breaths.

"No." He looks up at her, and she thinks he might try and move if it wasn't for the fact her ankles are locked his waist and her hands are tangled in his hair. If the desk wasn't underneath her, she'd be hanging off him like a sloth. "Beca what about –"

She silences him with a chaste kiss. "No, stop thinking, get out of your head. Right now, in this room, you are not Jesse and I am not Beca. There is no outside world, no ties, nothing, just you and me."

His heart beat is strong and fast under her hand. "Beca…" he tries weakly, but her eyes show she's set on this, that she's determined and his show he's just as game as her (she likes his eyes even more when his pupils have blown).

"Stop thinking," she insists again, "and take your damn pants off."

* * *

"Oh my God," she says, breathless, some time later, "How did we put that off so long?"

"I can't believe that just happened." His hair on her stomach tickles as they lie on the floor, his head propped up on her as they catch their breath. He sounds shocked, but her head is too clouded to notice the edge to his voice.

"That was… Wow." She sounds all dreamy and away with the fairies but… Wow. She doesn't even know what to say.

"What did we just do?" He runs a hand down his face.

"We just had really, _really_ good sex."

"We just officially crossed the line."

She frowns, finally picking up on the strange air about him, how he seems, for lack of a better word, ashamed. "Excuse me?"

"A kiss is, it's nothing, that can be brushed under the rug and whatever, but we just…" He seems in a bit of a daze, which she hates because he's definitely ruined hers.

"Jesse, what did I say about thinking?"

"You're _married_!"

"I know but –"

"You're married to Luke!"

"Jesse –"

"I can't believe I just –"

She leans up on her elbows, looking down at his horrified face with a face full of thunder. "Jesse Swanson I swear to the high heavens if you don't stop freaking out on me…"

"Beca we just committed adultery!" he says in a strange high pitched voice, and she huffs loudly, pushing him off her and getting up to retrieve her clothes. He just lies there motionless and naked, staring up at the ceiling, still lost inside his own head, so she climbs back into her underwear, throwing his shirt at him to make him at least a tiny bit more decent, which seems to be enough to snap him out of it because it is only now that he seems to realise she's pissed.

"Beca, wait, I'm sorry." She snatches up her jeans with more frustration than she means to, and she sees him cringe as he pulls on his boxers. "Beca, please, don't be like this."

"Be like what?" Her voice is quiet, deadly. "I don't know, how are women in my position supposed to be?" Her voice is rising in volume and she can't seem to stop it. "How are married women who just screwed a guy from work meant to act?"

"Beca –"

"Because I don't know, Jesse." She's getting hysterical, trying to tug her jeans up her legs with little success. He's popped her bubble and now she's just as horrified - more so, because she is the one that initiated it, that planned it. "Like I've told you before; this isn't me, okay? I'm not some whore who sleeps around with everyone in the office under her husband's nose; that's not who I am - but _you_, you completely screwed me up and now somehow I have to figure out a way to go home to my husband and pretend I didn't just bail on work early to fuck the new guy!"

His fingers wrap tightly around her wrists and he pulls her against his bare chest, hot tears she hadn't even noticed were there dripping from her eyes. She fights his hold for a few seconds, because she's not _this girl _– she doesn't cry in front of people or get so ridiculously over emotional. But his skin on hers is strangely calming, and eventually she gives in and lets him hold her, gentle fingers raking through her hair.

"I'm sorry, Beca," he says sincerely after a few minutes. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just… This isn't me either."

She snivels, her cheek resting just over his heart. She can feel his pulse against her skull. "Are we terrible people, Jesse?" she whispers.

"No," he answers immediately. "We just made a mistake. That doesn't make us terrible people."

There's a pause, and then she breathes, "It didn't feel like a mistake."

He sighs. "I know, that's the problem."

Beca can hear dull clattering from outside the locked door as her staff begin to set up for the night, and she echoes his sigh. The noise means it's time to face the real world. Their little bubble needs to be burst.

She pulls herself reluctantly out of his arms, making sure the button on her jeans is fastened before heading over to her blouse. He grabs his shirt and they finish dressing with their eyes locked, an unspoken promise being made that they won't speak of this night. She wishes she could go back ten minutes, back to when she had felt precious and happy, before real life crashed down on her and she realised what she had done.

She makes a promise to herself, a promise to not let herself give in again. Knowing deep down that it's a lie, she tries to convince herself that maybe now she's got him out of her system, that she can forget about her feelings for him and instead focus on what's important – work and home. She wants to blame her weakness on her fight with Luke, on the emotional struggle she's been trying to deal with the past eight months. Maybe it was just because of the stress of the day; Jesse had been there, sharing the stress, understanding the pressure of it all. Maybe that is all this is. Maybe Jesse is just a release of the tension that's been clamping down on her for so long.

But even as she thinks it, as she watches his brown eyes watch her, she knows it isn't true. Because even now, the attraction to him is the same, maybe even stronger, and he looks so concerned for her rather than scared away by her strange breakdown. Jesse might be this giant problem in her life that's complicating everything even more than it had been before, but somehow, despite the mess he's making of her life, he's like rain to her drought; he's bringing her back to life and she craves him like a heroin addict in withdrawal.

She needs to stop thinking of crazy metaphors. She's been staring too long.

"We should go," she says quietly, "You need to get home and I have plans."

"Okay." He hesitates. "I want you to know something."

"Yeah?"

"I don't regret this," he says, his voice suddenly full of passion and hidden meaning. "I should, but I don't."

A smile slowly grows on her face. She doesn't regret it either, not even for a second.

"Goodnight, Beca. I'll see you tomorrow." He crosses the gap between them in four long strides and places a gentle kiss against her forehead, her eyes closing for just a second, but when she opens them he's already through the door, leaving her alone in the empty room. She looks around sadly before grabbing her bag. Their secret will be stored safely inside the walls of her other secret.

* * *

"Beca you made it!" Chloe says happily twenty minutes later after the brunette has navigated through the many people in the tiny bar. She throws them a tight smile, trying not to let her eyes linger on Aubrey too long. Chloe jumps out of her seat, wrapping Beca in a warm hug, and Aubrey follows suit with significantly less enthusiasm. The blonde stiffens in her arm, pulling back quickly and sitting in her seat around the table they had managed to acquire while they waited.

"Sorry I'm late," she begins nervously. There's a paranoia in her that somehow, they'll notice, that maybe _I just slept with Jesse despite being a married woman_ is somehow burned into her skin somewhere and one wrong move and they'll see; they'll know; they'll ruin everything.

"It's alright," Chloe dismisses, though Aubrey looks a little less forgiving. "Just glad you decided to join us. I got you a drink already." The redhead pushes a vodka and cranberry towards her, and Beca realises that Chloe is probably not aware of her recent shift in alcohol preferences. "How have you been? It's been ages since we had a good chat."

"Fine." Beca shrugs. "Just been busy working."

"You look good." She can detect the undercurrent to Chloe's words, as so many people's do these days, but she has gotten good at ignoring them.

"Thanks. How have you been, Aubrey?"

The blonde glances up from her phone which she had been typing into furiously. "Oh, yeah, great."

"Answer her properly," Chloe says with mild disapproval. "Come on, there's got to be something going on with you!"

Aubrey shrugs, her curls bouncing slightly. "Not really. I did some casual dating but it didn't really work. The only big thing that's happened is finding out about Jesse."

Beca's posture shifts before she can work to stop herself, and is it just her or is Aubrey eyeing her strangely? "You guys seem pretty close," she manages to say nonchalantly.

"We were best friends, and it's strange, when we went out for lunch the other day, I saw how he hadn't really changed. It was nice, you know? Means I can still read him like a book. I know everything about the guy."

Her paranoia at an all time high, Beca excuses herself for the bathroom, walking too quickly through the crowds, practically stumbling through the crowd and into the girl's bathrooms. It's empty, thankfully, and she only has to take one look in the mirror to realise her paranoia may have more of a basis that she thought.

Her appearance screams _I just had sex_.

Her hair is still tousled a little despite trying to tame it earlier, and there's a smudge of old lipstick on her bottom lip. Her eyes are wide, feral looking, and her clothes are crumpled from being tossed carelessly across her secret office. She runs her fingers through her hair desperately, trying to tone it down somehow, but every glance she takes at herself in the mirror is another flash of Jesse's hands trailing up her thighs, of his lips grazing against her stomach, of his blown pupils and how he seemed to so love gathering her hair in his fist, pulling to expose her neck to him. Her cheeks are flushing and she huffs as the dirty memories haunt her.

There's a crash as the bathroom door slams open, and Beca turns in surprise to see Aubrey glaring at her, a fire in her eyes that makes Beca shrink back a little. Aubrey steps towards her, her arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you want?" Beca manages to say in the collected, bored tone she has mastered over the years.

"I know."

It's just two words, but it makes her forget how to breathe for a second. When she forces the tone again, it comes out strangled. "Know what?"

"About your boner for Jesse," Aubrey accuses outright, looking her up and down like she's nothing.

"My what?"

"I saw the way you were around him in the studio, how you stare at him; it's distracting."

She raises her eyebrows in astonishment. "Wow, you think you got me all figured out don't you?"

But Aubrey, apparently, had not pulled out her big guns yet. "You stink of his cologne."

Beca falters for a second too long, because a satisfied smirk spreads across the blonde woman's face that Beca wants to punch right off. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I get it okay?" Aubrey's gaze softens as she steps towards her. "Jesse is a great guy, with a good heart and hell even I'll admit he's easy on the eyes. But you need to stay away from him."

Despite herself, she can't help saying, "Yeah, you're not the boss of me."

"Beca, please. You're _married_, you have your happy ending. Jesse's naïve enough to maybe believe he could have one with you but I know you." Beca steps back, the familiar ache in her chest increasing tenfold. "Let him go before you hurt him."

Stubborn to the bitter end, Beca juts out her chin and continues to act none the wiser. "I don't know what it is you're trying to imply, but Jesse is just a co-worker. You think I _smell_ like him? Try spending ten hours sitting with a guy and_ not_ smelling a little like them. We worked together all day, because that's our _jobs_."

Aubrey doesn't look any more convinced. "I'm warning you Beca. Get over your silly little crush and back the hell off."

Beca struggles to hold back the surprised smile that is threatening to take over her face. She steps closer, her sudden confidence threatening. "I should get over my 'silly little crush'? Try having a look at yourself there."

Aubrey flushes. "You think _I _have feelings for Jesse?"

"No I think you have feelings for my husband," Beca basically spits at her, and Aubrey pales at her accusation. "I'm not an idiot, I've seen how you fuss over him like a puppy dog. So here's my suggestion to _you_; get over your thing for Luke and find a guy who's available, and while you're at it, butt out of my business!"

And Beca pushes past her to the door, fully ready to make the dramatic exit, until Aubrey turns and very quietly says one more thing to her.

"Don't drag Jesse into your mess; he doesn't deserve that pain."

She glances down, the ache in her chest throbbing a little, before opening the door and making a dash for the exit, no longer in any state to be around people, instead craving the comfort of her music.

* * *

Beca slips into the building through the back door, climbing the stairs up to the eighth floor slowly. The lights are still on so she figures someone is still left in the building, and she walks along the silent corridor to her studio. As soon as the door is closed behind her she slides down it, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.

It has been a hell of a day.

She feels emotionally drained, her mind and body lethargic. She is fed up of the pity, fed up of the conflict, fed up of everything to do with this place. So much shit had gone down in this building, and sometimes, just sometimes, when there is no one around and she can think without worrying about the rest of the world, she will imagine herself running away.

Somewhere warm, maybe. Exotic. She likes the idea of going somewhere brand new, where no one knows her name or her private business. Maybe she could go somewhere they don't speak a word of English; she could truly be left alone, perfectly content to live her life by a beach with no one hounding her or hurting her or trying to shape her into something she's just not. She thinks maybe that she might like to live in one of those wooden huts, right on the beach, where she could laze in a hammock and lose herself in a book, music playing and complimenting the gentle breeze.

Yes, Beca would very much like to be somewhere else.

It's in times like this, though, that she recalls her responsibilities. Because she can't just up and leave; she has a job, with other careers and jobs resting on her ability to do her best work. She has a husband, a man who may irritate her beyond belief but that she took a vow to stand by (despite her indiscretions today), a man she shares a home with that she's put time into making welcoming, comforting. She has friends and her dad when he manages to visit; she has a hundred different things that she can't just up and leave behind.

That's Beca's issue, she supposes. She already knows that no amount of running will allow her to escape her problems; her life. Because life has a funny way of following you around, where ever you may go.

"Becky? Baby it's me."

Beca feels his gentle knock vibrate through the door and into her back, and she quickly wipes at the tear that had escaped at some point during her musings. She brushes herself off as she stands, exhaling a shaky breath before opening the door, finding Luke standing there with this strange mix of concern and sadness on his face.

"Oh look at you," he says with a sigh, touching her cheek. "Baby I'm so sorry we fought."

She doesn't say a word; doesn't move an inch.

"I've been pushing you too hard, giving you too much to do," he reasons, edging slightly closer. "It's been stressing you out, especially when you're still so fragile, and I've not even been around at home to support you."

Every muscle in her body is clenched, and she has to work hard to speak in a tone that doesn't indicate how badly she wants to rip his head off. "Thank you."

"I promise; no more sleeping at the office. I'll be home every night. I want to take care of you Beca, really and truly, if you'll let me."

Beca presses her lips together against the tears burning the backs of her eyes. If there is one thing she has always hated about Luke, even back in the day when she was whole-heartedly besotted with him, it is that he has always treated her like she's inferior to him. She doesn't know if it's because she's a girl; if it's because she's small in height or he's just over protective. But he has never treated her like anything but a child, and she hates herself, the old version of herself, for believing she could change that in him. Eight years hadn't done anything; how would she change his habits now?

"Hey, baby, why are you crying?" he asks sincerely, moving to hug her, but she flinches away.

"Stop calling me baby; I'm not a child," she says indignantly, but the tears don't help with her protest or the way her arms are raising, folding in like her body is trying to get as small as it can.

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't realise it upset you so much." He raises his hand in surrender but it just makes her angrier.

"That's not why I'm upset with you!" she yells, and the sudden change in volume makes him jump.

"Then why?"

She runs her fingers through her hair, tugging at the roots in despair. "God, Luke, don't you get it? I just…" She groans as she struggles with her words. "When I look at you it kills me! When I see your face all I can think of is the last eight months and I can't…" She turns her back on him, hands on her hips as she inhales deeply to calm herself. "You break my heart, over and over."

Luke's arms snake around her hips, and she can't help the thought that runs through her mind.

_These are the wrong arms._

"I am trying, so hard, to make all of that up to you," he says gently into her ear. Even if his arms aren't the ones she wants in the moment, Luke's are familiar, an old comfort there she has almost forgotten, so she leans back against his strong chest. "I will spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, how much I love you. I do love you, Becky, I love you so much."

Another tear slips down her cheek, this time out of overwhelming guilt. "I know you do," she whispers. "And I'm trying to forgive you, to move past it all. It just takes time. You need to give me time."

His nose presses into her hair and he kisses her earlobe tenderly, a trick he had learnt early on in their relationship helped soothe her, and she lets her eyes close as she leans her temple against his. Beca is exhausted, and all she wants to do now is sleep, maybe this time without the bad dreams.

"Come on," he says quietly to her, his grip tightening around her. "Let's go home."

"Actually," she says before she can chicken out, "I think I'm just going to stay here if that's okay. I have some work to do anyway, like you said, and it's another big day tomorrow."

He sighs into her shoulder, but he knows not to argue with her, so he gives in without a fight, something she is glad for because she doesn't have the energy anymore. "Just this once, okay? Tomorrow night we are going home together, no matter what."

She strokes her fingers over the back of his hand, wondering how far she push this softened state he seems to be in. "Will you come to my meeting first? I need to discuss some things with everyone, but I'd like you to be there."

He drops a kiss on her shoulder and pulls away. "Of course I'll be there."

She turns to see him backing up to the door. "Thank you."

"Goodnight, Becky." He opens the door and she curls one hand around the elbow of the other, nervous under his peculiar stare. "I love you."

She plasters a smile on her face, something that used to be enough for him because he knows she finds it difficult sometimes to put things like that into words – even if they're as simple as that – but he seems disappointed when she just stares back at him. Finally, after a long pause full of a strange tension, she speaks. "Goodnight, Luke."

Alone once more, Beca ignores her laptop in favour of lying on the couch at the back of the room, curling herself into a fetal position so she's looking out onto the recording space. Her eyelids are already heavy, but she keeps her eyes open to look at the piano pushed against the wall. It seems strange, that their moment at the piano had only been a few hours ago. She tries to remember the melody he had played, but the tune doesn't sound as good in her mind and so she shakes it off before she can ruin it for herself.

Instead, Beca lets her thoughts drift to other things about Jesse, like his eyes that she can't seem to get enough of, the deep dip of his cupids bow, his strong jaw and his stronger hands and his boyish grin. For the first time since she left his presence, she smiles genuinely, and soon enough she is slipping away in unconsciousness, the memory of his arms lulling her into a perfect dream state.

* * *

**I hope that these two chapters answer a lot of questions you guys had. I got so many people asking why she married Luke - including some very amusing theories - but none of you seemed to guess that it was because ****_Beca genuinely loves him_****. I know it's gross to us and all, but this is an AU, so things don't follow the rules. You will all have to cope with the storm if you want to see the rainbow.**

**There was a lot of character appearances here, and a lot of new questions were raised. It might be a little confusing but everything will be explained eventually. The biggest question is, of course, what happened eight months ago? The mystery will be solved soon, and don't freak out too much, it's probably not what you think (though I'd love to know your theories). There is, of course, the cause of Beca's bad dreams; the contents of that envelope; her complicated friendship with Aubrey - who has feelings for Luke? - and a few extra tidbits you may or may not pick up on - leave me a review and let me know what you spotted!**

**To reiterate before I get a ton of demands over it; NO, Aubrey does not have feelings for Jesse, her motives for the bathroom scene were purely protective of her friend. I may be breaking a few rules for this story but Aubrey and Jesse? No thanks. Not for me. Please do not worry over this; trust me, I'm the author!**

**Yowza, mentioned a lot of stuff there. Sorry for the giant AN! As usual, please let me know what you thought :)**


	9. The Day After The Night Before

**So I'm a terrible updater with this story. I'm really sorry, especially to everyone who begged for an update (and thank you for that because they worked well as kicks up the backside to get cracking with this). I've had some problems with how to direct the plot which ultimately affected how I write this chapter, but it's okay, I've sorted them now so everything should be okay. Plus I got to include one of my favourite lines from Grey's Anatomy so I'm happier now.**

**Thanks for sticking with me (again). Much love!**

**(P.S I apologise for how atrociously this chapter is written but I just needed to get past it. After this I now have direction so yeah, just pretend it's better written.)**

* * *

**9 – THE DAY AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE**

So he's made one giant, monumental mistake.

Like colossal.

Things pretty much could not get any worse.

And he hates it, really, because this mistake? He doesn't even care. He's _happy_. In a I-feel-really-guilty-but-I-can't-help-feeling-giddy-too kind of way that is probably really terrible and makes him just about the worst person in the world, but then he remembers Beca's lips on his skin and he thinks he might also be the luckiest.

When he walks into the studio the next day he's surprised to find it empty, but then he supposes he _is _rather early so instead he just sets the coffee he's bought for her on the counter and falls into the warm leather of the couch (and the warmth puts him off a little, because it has that strange residual heat of when someone has been there for a really long time and they've only just left, but he supposes that any number of people could have been here before him so he brushes the confusion away). The quiet however, only lasts for about a second, because Beca's assistant comes barrelling in out of breath and yelps in surprise at his presence.

"Jesus fucking Christ – What the hell are you doing in here?" she says in a squeaky voice as she puts a hand over her heart, taking deep breaths. Amy is wearing this ridiculous acid pink denim jacket over an equally as bright blue shirt and it hurts his eyes a little to look at her so early in the morning.

"We have another recording day today," he says slowly, trying to figure out why she is surprised at seeing him. Yes, he's early, but it's not like he's not supposed to be here.

"Didn't you get the memo?"

"What memo?" Jesse frowns.

"Bumper Allen called to cancel, something about one of the girls being too ill? The other girls are coming in later to record their solos to stop them losing time but there's nothing for this morning." Amy sighs, shaking her head like it's the end of the world. She comes scarily close and then bends beside him, pulling out some kind of box from under the couch. "Beca is so mad, there's steam coming out of her ears and everything and I think she's going to have a hernia –"

"Okay well, I guess I can just carry on with some more work then, I'm behind on a lot so…" He stands up awkwardly, trying to find a way out, but she's staring him down like he's some kind of animal she's about to hunt and kill and skin him.

"Huh," is all she says to herself, before she turns away and heads back out the studio, grabbing Beca's coffee off the side and putting it to her lips as she disappears from sight.

Jesse doesn't really have all that much to do, and his stomach grumbling loudly in the empty space reminds him that he skipped breakfast this morning, so he resolves to fetch himself and Benji something from the coffee shop around the corner. He drops in on Donald on the way down from the eighth floor, who is becoming quite a good friend and is especially useful in getting on the good side of his coworkers due to his easy attitude and over-flowing pleasantries. The man has become one the faces he looks forward to seeing most every day – normally in the break room, surrounded by coffee and muffins and his artwork – and he is not surprised when he finds Donald slumped over the break room table, furiously scribbling in his sketch pad.

With the breakfast orders scratched with a cheap biro into the back of his hand, he walks out of the building into the crisp morning air, letting it wash through him. Half of him wishes it could take away the memories of yesterday, of everything that happened in the hidden office with Beca where she was pressed against him as he tasted her skin and –

Okay, he's getting severely off point.

The point is now he's gone the whole way. He knows exactly what it's like to be with Beca and he's addicted. Already he wants her again, wants to feel her and talk to her and even just be in her presence. Anything at all for that next hit.

Yeah, he has some problems.

There's a part of him, the same one that wishes to spontaneously develop amnesia, that also wishes he had made more of an effort to tell her _no_. He knows he should have stopped things going too far, that he shouldn't have gotten caught up in the moment and heck – he shouldn't have even agreed to meet her outside of work because he'd known – he's not stupid. Jesse knew from the moment he started massaging her shoulders what it was going to lead to (though maybe not as quickly as it did, because he had really believed that after her kissing him and them being seconds away from getting caught, that she would at least block off any form of physical contact for at least a week or so). And when he'd met her and she'd lead them away to her club, he'd been _sure _of her intentions.

He should have said no.

But he didn't, and now he's trapped with the memories and the fact that his fingers know how every inch of her feels and, to top it off, he has a meeting with Luke next week where he has to walk in and tell him about The Banned's recordings, at the same as pretending he hasn't slept with his wife in the secret club she owns that he knows nothing about.

So yeah, he's fucked up. Big time.

Yet there's still that other half of him, the one that feels like a sixteen year old boy who's crushing hard on the most popular girl at school and who is actually _getting _somewhere with her. It's the part that makes his heart stutter when he sees her and the part that wants to be always be touching her, one way or another. It's the part that makes him smile every time he thinks about her and -

"Who is she?"

"Excuse me?" He turns sharply to Chloe, who has snuck up beside him in line (wow, when did he get to the coffee shop?) with this knowing smirk and he feels panic welling up in his chest. She knows that she's caught him off guard and evidently, he'd been letting his musings leak into his facial expressions.

"You've got that look, the same one you had your second day. Whoever it was that had you spooked that day is back, I want to know who she is!"

"No one," he dismisses, keeping his eyes trained on the counter which he is so close to, so close to escape, but Chloe is too persistent for that, nudging his arm to get his attention.

"You think you can quell my curiosity just like that? Please, Jesse, give a little credit." She's smirking at him, her light blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "They don't call me the gossip queen for nothing."

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he starts babbling about a girl he bumped into last night and had taken for drinks – and it's half true, because he's basically just recounting the story of how he met Juliet in college, the timing is just a little off – and she seems to accept it, listening avidly to his every word until they reach the counter and Jesse can distract himself with reading the list off the back of his hand.

Once he's received his order from the collection point – which Chloe has already breezed through and is now eagerly waiting for him beside it on bouncy toes – she begins the ten minute walk back to their building at his side, happily spewing off details about her own evening.

"Well I'm glad at least you had a good night. I was supposed to be having drinks with Aubrey and Beca, but they both disappeared to the bathroom and Beca never came back. I guess they had an argument or something because Aubrey was in a foul mood for the rest of the night…" She sighs, unaware of how she has now fully captured Jesse's attention at the mention of his childhood best friend and… Whatever Beca is to him. "I thought the night would help them get over their history but…"

"Their history?" he puzzles, frowning down at her small frame as she sips on her coffee.

"Oh it's far too complicated to get into," she waves off, but there's an edge to her voice, like she hadn't realised how much she'd said. "My point is that I'm now stuck in the middle of them _again _and it's all just far too dramatic for me."

Frowning, he mulls over her words. Beca and Aubrey had history? He had gathered from the tense exchange of words last week in her studio that the two didn't exactly get on, but he hadn't thought of there being a specific reason behind it. And why is Chloe stuck in the middle? Why had she been before?

Needing to get his mind off Beca (again – he really needs to get a hold on that) Jesse instead goes for a change of subject, noting the porcelain coffee cup designed to look like a disposable one. "If all you wanted was a coffee, why didn't you just go to the break rooms?"

Chloe just smiles to herself, looking out at the crowded streets. "Oh, because I like a _very _particular type of coffee." And then the smile grows as she looks up at him. "And the guy behind the counter is hot."

Jesse laughs at the glint in her eyes. "You know Chloe, I like you more and more every day."

"I know," she teases, "I'm great, right?"

* * *

The morning drags after he's delivered breakfast orders, despite how he has plenty to do at his desk and around the label. He had not been excepting his day to go this way, and the residual excitement from the prospect of seeing Beca (despite knowing said excitement is wrong in pretty much every way) has him antsy and on edge and seems to just be making the minute hand crawl achingly slow.

Until, finally, it is one o'clock, and he doesn't think his feet have ever moved more quickly.

She's there, as he thought she would be, curled into the couch with her laptop but she looks up the second he half-falls through the door, his excitement propelling him too far. The door closes softly behind him as he just stares at her staring at him, moving slowly to put her laptop down and pull the blanket off that is draped over her lap.

Somehow, he has forgotten how her beauty astounds him. Beca's eyes are bright and alert, watching him unnervingly, and he can't really believe that less than 24 hours ago he was lying her down on a desk and –

Okay, now is not the time to be thinking of such things.

Especially because it makes him click the lock on the door, the noise echoing around the room and making her breathing stutter and he knows this breaks his promise but, with her eyes on him that way, he can't remember why he should care about anything else but how she makes him feel.

"Hey," she finally says quietly. Jesse can hear the hesitation in her voice, how she is trying to control herself and hold back. He wishes she wouldn't. He's glad she does.

"Hey."

Beca breaks their locked gaze first, coughing a little as she bends down to pick up the collection of papers with a little too much effort from where they are sprawled on the floor. There are little colour labels hanging off their edges and despite the distance and small font he thinks he can make out legal jargon or something. He wonders what it is. He dares not hope.

"Need a hand?" He's already walking over, bending down to grab a sheet but their hands collide. There's an impossibly long pause as they both slowly raise their heads to look at each other, the current of her touch still reverberating up his arm.

He holds up the document nervously. "Planning on moving?"

Her mouth opens and then snaps shut, and she busies herself again with gathering up the rest of the papers. "No," she finally says, holding her hand out for the paper still in his hand. She avoids his face, staring at something else and he can see how flustered she is, how awkward she feels around him. "I'm just buying some property."

"Okay." Jesse hands over the papers in his hand and straightens up, clasping his hands in front of him as she bustles about, straightening out her collection of documents and hiding them in a shoe box, sliding them under the couch. When she straightens he catches her staring and her eyebrows crease helplessly with worry.

"Stop staring at me like that," she pleads.

"Like what?"

"Like you've seen me naked!" Her hands grip the desk behind her and he wants to press her into it, to kiss down her neck and feel that grip on his arms –

Yeah, he's definitely like a sixteen year old boy again.

And because of that, he can't stop himself smirking and saying, "But I _have _–"

"Jesse!" she barks, narrowing her eyes. "Stop it, this isn't funny."

"Okay, okay!" He raises his hands in surrender, a ghost of his smirk still lingering. "I'm sorry, no more jokes."

"Good." She nods, looking away into the empty recording space. He can feel the unspoken words between them, the need to talk about last night battling with the want to not mention it at all, because talking about it will ultimately ruin it and call far too many things into consideration that will make their precarious balancing act on the edge of sanity and… He doesn't even know what they're about to fall off the edge of, but he does know that her eyes have far too big an effect over him to be at all possible and that he should probably stop looking at her before they cross the line.

Again.

"So what are you buying?" he asks in the most casual way he can muster, focussing on walking over to the couch.

"The club," she says after a breath, her back to him. "I've been renting the space for a few months but I'm in the process of buying the current owners out. I got the last of the papers yesterday and I'm taking them to my lawyer tomorrow."

"Wow, well I guess congratulations are in order!" he enthuses, smiling at her reflection in the window as he sees her glance up and watch him through it.

"Thank you." Beca turns slowly, falling into her chair, the silence extending as he lets his eyes drift around the room to anything that isn't her, despite feeling her eyes on him and knowing any second what she is going to say. When she sighs, he knows this is it. "Jesse, we should talk –"

But a rattling on the locked door disturbs them and breaks the moment, Amy's loud shouts to be let in (with some fairly colourful language) only just leaking into the sound proofed room. Beca dives out of her seat, quickly unlocking the door and unnecessarily supplying some terrible excuse for it. Amy glances between them, obviously unconvinced by Beca's rambling and his feigned innocence, but doesn't comment, instead announcing Cynthia's and Lily's arrival downstairs.

Jesse gladly accepts the exit option, walking out quickly and wincing when he hears what he thinks is Amy demanding, "What's up with you and hot stuff?"

He really doesn't know anymore.


End file.
